The Slave
by shieldmaiden19
Summary: A choice made. Infants separated. A sheltered life of luxury handed to one. A terrible path laid out before the other. But despite lightyears, class, and ideologies between, blood has a way of finding its own. AU ON TEMPORARY HIATUS
1. Prologue

_The Slave  
_

Prologue

_CLASH_. The two lightsabers, so alike in their vivid blue hue, yet so different in their wielders, connected again. Over and over again, their wielders struck at each other, both so evenly matched that neither could gain an advantage. Soon, however, the two combatants were at a faceoff – one standing on a droid that hovered above a river of fire, and the other standing on the black ash of the shoreline.

The one on the shore yelled over the roar of the burning falls: "It's over, Anakin! I have the high ground!"

The eyes of the one standing on the droid seemed to glow a sulfuric yellow, but it could have just been a reflection of the fiery flow beneath. He yelled back, hatred infusing his voice, "You underestimate my power!"

The first man said warningly, with a sudden and inexplicable fear for the other in his eyes, "Don't try it."

The second man sneered and with an enormous burst of power, leapt at the first man. Time seemed to slow down. The man standing on the ashy ground readied his lightsaber, timing his swing in order to make contact with the leaping man's legs. Forward…forward the second man shot. Down…down came the first man's lightsaber. It was almost to the man's legs…

Then, with faster-than-superhuman speed, the second man ignited his lightsaber and blocked the first man's swing. He landed on his feet, and the duel continued up the hill. The farther the two went, the more furious the fight became. They were at the steepest part of the hill when the first man tripped and fell backward with a cry. The second man's eyes glowed with triumph, and he raised his lightsaber up. But as his lightsaber plunged down, the first man was already rolling out of the way. The force of the second man's stab sent him bending almost to the blackened ground. Not even thinking, the first man disengaged his lightsaber and threw the hilt at the second man's head. It connected with a dull _thud_. He collapsed without a sound. The first man pushed himself up off the ground and ran over to the second man, checking quickly for breathing and a pulse. The man was alive, but unconscious. The first man grabbed his lightsaber and stood up. After a moment of thought, he summoned the other man's lightsaber to his hand. As he strode away, he looked back once and whispered, "I'm sorry, Anakin."

* * *

"Don't give up, Padme." The reassuring voice of the man who, hours before, had been battling for his life on the black-as-death slopes of Mustafar, seemed to get through to the screaming woman on the table in front of him. She let loose a yell of pain and relief.

"It's a boy," the medical droid said in its tinny voice.

The woman began breathing harder. Sweat began streaming down her face once again. She cried out in pain, then gave a moan of exhaustion before the medical droid spoke up again: "It's a girl."

Obi-Wan – Obi-Wan Kenobi, the famed Negotiator, a General of the Grand Army of the Republic, and the best friend of her once-husband – brought the twins over to their mother.

Tears still streaming down her face, she touched the boy's face, cradling the curve of his cheek in her hand. "Luke," she said, joy and pride shining amidst the pain in her eyes. She reached over to the girl, stroking the contours of her nose and her lips. "Leia," she said, a tremulous smile on her lips. Her eyes reached up and imprisoned Obi-Wan's. "There's still good in him," she whispered. Her trembling hand reached up and gripped his with surprising strength. "There's good in him…there's good…still…" Her now-limp hand fell to the table. The eyes that had captivated a lonely slave from Tatooine lost their shine and closed for the final time.

Tears in his own eyes, Obi-Wan Kenobi carried the twins out of the operating room. Bail Organa and Jedi Master Yoda, who had been waiting outside, fell in step with him. Once the three were onboard Bail's ship and the wailing twins put to bed in a cushioned basket, they sat down together. For a long time, silence reigned, each absorbed in his own thoughts – about the fate of the galaxy, about the fate of the Jedi, about the fate of a brother left for dead.

Finally, Yoda cleared his throat and said, "Pregnant, she must still appear. Hidden, safe, the children must be kept, but together they must not be."

Obi-Wan, his face tight with tiredness and a deep, unspeakable sorrow, said softly, "They must go somewhere the Sith will not sense their presence."

"My wife and I can take them," Bail Organa said hesitantly. "We've always longed for children. Alderran _is_ close to Coruscant, but we can weave lies so dense around them that no one would think twice about their origins."

"Together they must not be," Yoda said firmly. "So alike in the Force are they, a towering beacon they make."

"Only one, then," Bail Organa said, a little sadly.

Yoda nodded in agreement, and Obi-Wan felt him extend his mind out over the infants.

"Searching them, I am," Yoda responded to Obi-Wan's unspoken question. "An infant's mind so unclouded is, read the tendencies they will develop later I can." He went back to his work, then pulled out. "The girl," he said, pointing, "far away from Vader should be kept. Sense stubbornness, I do. Future tendrils I see – anger, hatred, a hunger for power. Lay hold of her, powerful emotions will. Tempt her, if not seduce her, the Dark Side might. To Alderran she must not go." He turned to her brother, slumbering peacefully beside her. "Already, better at concealing his emotions and muting his connection to the Force the boy is," Yoda said. "Safer, it would be, for him to be near Vader."

Bail nodded in relief and joy. "We'll take the boy. He will be loved with us."

"And the girl?" Obi-Wan asked tentatively.

"To Tatooine," Yoda responded. "To her family, her aunt and uncle, send her."

"I will take the child and watch over her," Obi-Wan said quietly, gazing at the baby girl. He was silent for a few moments, lost in his thoughts. "Master Yoda, do you think Anakin's twins will be able to defeat Darth Sidious?"

"Strong the Force runs, in the Skywalker line," the diminutive Jedi responded. "Hope, we can . . . Done, it is. Until the time is right, disappear we will."

Obi-Wan nodded sadly and cradled the sleeping infant in his arms. "Hope indeed…" he murmured.

* * *

VVV

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I'm back! I admit it, I've totally been procrastinating on publishing this story. Top psychologists call it 'the summer effect'; who am I to argue?

Now, a bit of overview: there will for sure be five Parts, maybe more (depending on where this story decides to go), with individual Chapters within each. Each Part has 1-2 quotes that I think highlight the big themes within. I'm going to put them at the top of each Chapter so you don't forget them ;)

I probably should have said this long ago, but if anyone's interested in making a profile picture for this story (or Lady of Shadows while we're on the topic), I am ready, willing, and able to look at what you come up with.

As always, giving me a review is the best thing you can do for me. They help me hone my technique, and they keep me inspired. So….please? :)


	2. Part 1: Chapter 1

The Slave's Gain, Part 1: What Profit?

"_For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?"_

_~Luke 9:25_

"_Adversity is a great teacher, but this teacher makes us pay dearly for its instruction; and often the profit we derive is not worth the price we paid." _

_~Elizabeth Hardwick_

Chapter 1

"Leia Skywalker, you get back here right now!" I yelled to the four-year-old in question who was currently running from me, darting toward the only sweet shop in Mos Eisley. Standing on the doorstep, my niece turned back to me, a devilish grin on her face. She knew that I would catch her eventually, but for now, she was enjoying running me ragged. She quickly stepped into the shop, and I had to quickly run in after her. I knew only too well what would happen if I didn't get to her in time – she would have her grubby little hands in one of the barrels of sweets, and then I would have to pay for all the ones she had touched. It had happened once before, and I learned my lessons quickly. Sure enough, just as I walked in, she was raising the cover on a barrel of Corellian licorice. I lunged forward and grabbed her arm.

She looked up at me, those big brown eyes filling with crocodile tears. "Please, Aunt Beru? _Pleeeease?_"

"Oh, let the poor dear have one!" said the shopkeeper, a cheery-faced woman who looked to be in her sixties. Leia's eyes glowed in triumph – she knew she had won.

I closed my eyes and pasted a smile on my face. "Why not?" I said through gritted teeth, paying for a dozen sticks. I probably would have bought some licorice anyway – it was Owen's favorite – but I couldn't allow Leia to become any more spoiled than she already was. I put the blame securely on Owen's shoulders for that: he couldn't say no to her because, "…she just looks so much like Shmi." It was true: she was the what the stepmother we had both adored would have looked like as a child and not as a woman grown old before her time. But since he couldn't bring himself to discipline her, _I_ had to be the bad guy. It was not fun.

I gave Leia a stick and kept one for myself, putting the rest away in my bag. I took her firmly by the hand and left the shop. We made two more stops before Leia's licorice was gone. As soon as she had licked the last little bit of sticky sweetness from her hand, she started looking around for distractions. The crowds around us were much bigger than they had been two hours ago. I tightened my grip, but she wriggled away and darted off to gods-know-where. I called out once, and when she didn't come back immediately, I didn't panic – she considered it a game, trying to drag out how long she could stay away. I bought some new fabric, calling out periodically, my anger rising with each call. After the sixth call however, something shifted within me. She was usually back by the third or fourth call. Something must have happened to her. I retraced my steps, continuously calling out Leia's name, this time with fear imbuing my voice. Still no response.

I don't know how long I wandered the market calling out for her. After what felt like hours, Owen found me there. He must have seen something in my eyes for he stopped, took me by the shoulders and asked me softly what had happened. At that point, I was so scared for our little girl that tears began streaming down my face as I stuttered out that she had run off and that she hadn't come back yet. Fear came into his eyes, but his voice remained steady as he asked how long I had been searching. I replied, now trembling, that I didn't know. He looked down at the ground, his shoulders limp.

After a long silence, he looked me in the eye and said, "We're going to need to call him." There was no doubt in either of our minds to whom _him_ referred. I closed my eyes in sudden pain: Owen's decision to call for Obi-Wan's aid underlined the gravity of the situation and showed me the extent of his own helplessness.

Owen dug out his outdated, but well-cared-for comlink from his pocket. He didn't know Kenobi's frequency, but I had long since memorized it, in the fear that something like this would happen. Owen dialed it and waited for Obi-Wan to pick up, shifting his weight back and forth impatiently. Finally, he picked up, for Owen said gruffly, "Kenobi, this is Owen Lars. We…" All facades of strength seemed to fall from him, and he grimaced in sudden pain, whether from a wound to his pride or just fear for our little niece I will never know. "We need your help."

* * *

It took the Jedi two hours to reach us, traveling at top speed from the Jundland Wastes. During that span of time, Owen made me sit in the shade and drink two glasses of blue milk as he took his turn searching for Leia. I sat shivering, despite the heat of the midday suns, on one of the chairs in the room we had rented for Market Week, my mind focused solely on the little girl I had grown to love as my own daughter. A shadow appeared in the door. I looked up – it was Obi-Wan. He took in my state in one glance, and his normally impassive face became very serious. "Beru, what happened?" he asked, taking the seat opposite me. My voice cracked and waivered as I recounted the events of the morning to him. His expression became graver with every word I uttered. When I finished, he closed his eyes. At first, I thought he was in pain, but as I saw the almost undetectable expression of joy and peace that flitted across his face, I knew he was tapping into the Force. I waited worriedly as his face became harder and harder, as if it were carved from stone. Without a word, he stood up and walked out. Quickly, I hurried after him. He wove a path through the crowded streets of Mos Eisley, determination and some other emotion lighting a fire within his eyes that effortlessly cleared a path before him. He ducked down a narrow alley between two shops, and took a left onto the slightly wider path behind them. He hadn't walked more than ten paces before he halted as if he had been struck. I looked around. We weren't in any place remarkable – it was a rather shady corridor of an alleyway with trash bins lining the walls.

I asked Obi-Wan quietly what had happened to him. He opened his eyes. I was shocked to see that there were tears in them. "This is where Leia was taken," he said, his cultured voice unsteady. I sat down hard.

"Taken?" I said in a hushed voice. "You mean she was…kidnapped?"

He shook his head. "She wasn't kidnapped, at least not in the way that you're thinking about it. She wasn't snatched for a ransom – she was taken as…" He faltered, then regained some semblance of steadiness in his voice. "She was taken by slavers."

* * *

Obi-Wan couldn't bring himself to tell Owen what had happened – that Leia had been made a slave and that there was no hope of ever finding her again – so the sad task fell to me. I had only seen Owen like this once before – after he and his father had returned from their attempt to rescue Shmi. He looked exactly the same as he had then – a shriveled version of his usual self, crumpled under the forces of sadness, fear and helplessness.

"Kenobi, is there any hope , even the slightest shred, of ever finding her again? Please, tell me there is!" he said. Never had I seen Owen pleading; never had I seen that glint of desperate fire in his eyes. It was only then that I saw just how much hope Tatooine had taken out of him and how much joy Leia had instilled in him. That just made the throbbing ache that had taken residence in my chest that much worse.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, suddenly looking decades older. "If I said that, Owen, I would be lying," he said softly. "We'll never see her again."

* * *

VVV

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Hey everyone! Eight reviews for just the prologue? *crying for joy* Please continue this lovely flood of commentary - it is so inspiring!

I tried to respond to everyone who reviewed, but to AlderranGirl and Darth Vadie I extend my most humble thanks for both reading and reviewing.


	3. Part 1: Chapter 2

The Slave's Gain, Part 1: What Profit?

"_For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?"_

_~Luke 9:25_

"_Adversity is a great teacher, but this teacher makes us pay dearly for its instruction; and often the profit we derive is not worth the price we paid." _

_Elizabeth Hardwick_

Chapter 2

I sat back in my chair, rubbing my aching eyes. The stack of 'In' reports – reports I had yet to read through – was a good four inches tall while its companion, the 'Out' reports – all the reports I had already read – was comprised of a mere ten reports. Paper shuffling had never been my strong suit. Maybe that was why my Master made me do it. I felt my lip curl at the thought of that decrepit excuse for an Emperor. The funny thing was, I wouldn't put it past him – giving me the task that any one of his other subordinates could have taken care of just to build my anger, in order to make me a more potent weapon. That's all I was – a weapon and an inanimate tool to be used, not a flesh-and-blood human being with a mind of my own. _Nine years_ it had been, and I was still nothing but a stick to him, something to whack his enemies with. I bit down on the snarl that threatened to escape. Instead, I got up and strode to my window. Outside, Coruscant thrived, the flickering lights of its traffic lighting up the night sky. Unable to watch the gaudy beauty any longer, I turned away and began to pace, my hatred for the man who had become as much my master as Watto had been all those long years ago throwing fuel onto the fire that had been slowly building these past nine years. I had gained the galaxy and forfeited my freedom to that **Insert Corellian curse here**. But the day was coming when his glorious rule would come crashing down, and I would take up the power he had denied me for so long. All I needed was an apprentice.

I choked down a bitter laugh. Never would I find a being capable of being my apprentice if I was stuck doing the Emperor's bloody paperwork! With a furious cry, I dashed the pile of waiting reports to the ground. But amidst the gentle flutter and rustle of papers falling to the floor, I heard a hard _clatter_. A holorecording. Immediately, I was on my knees, sifting through the almost-blinding pile of white documents. Finally, I found it. With calm fingers, I switched it on.

The blue figure of Samil, the agent I had set to monitor everything in connection to my past, appeared clad in rough Tatooinian clothing. "Lord Vader, I am contacting you in regards to the Podraces. It's nothing too catastrophic, sir. I remembered that you liked the Podraces, and I figured this might be a point of interest for you. For the first time since 13 BE, a human will be racing in the Boonta Eve Classic. The date of the race is..."

"The fifth of Silna," I murmured without thinking.

"...the fifth of Silna," Samil continued, "which is roughly June 12, Coruscant time. Samil out." The holograph flickered out.

"Interesting..." I murmured, my mind now whirring. Could the Force be sending me an apprentice? I recalled eavesdropping on Kenobi and Qui-Gon when I had first been brought onto the sleek, silver Nubian ship: Qui-Gon had said that there was a reason humans never competed in the Podraces – none but the most Force-sensitive ones could even dream of having the dexterity and reflexes a Podracer required. That was one of the ways he knew how powerful I was in the Force, he said. So to find out that there was now another human with my level of Force sensitivity was, to put it simply, a windfall. Could the Force be sending me an apprentice? I ran my hands slowly through my hair, a plan already taking root in my brain. And the first step to it was finding that human.

* * *

VVV

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Greetings to this fair assembly! I have some bad news. Said bad news is that there won't be five parts as I had previously said - there will be seven, with the later Parts having considerably more chapters than the earlier ones. So you guys are in for the long haul ;) I'll try my best to update every week, but I'm going on vacation in two weeks, so don't expect much after that.

Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed! You guys are beyond amazing!


	4. Part 1: Chapter 3

The Slave's Gain, Part 1: What Profit?

"_For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?"_

_~Luke 9:25_

"_Adversity is a great teacher, but this teacher makes us pay dearly for its instruction; and often the profit we derive is not worth the price we paid." _

_Elizabeth Hardwick_

Chapter 3

I strolled through the streets of Mos Espa, clothed in the garb of a spacer, the most common kind of crew hand in the galaxy. Try as I might to appear impressive and worthy of the swagger I had added to my step, I couldn't stop an almost childish grin from capturing my face. To feel the sun on my face, the wind ruffle my hair and see the blue sky with my own eyes was a blessing I had never recognized. The mask my Master forced me to wear was a hideous, skull-like, black monstrosity that shut me off from everything around me. It covered my whole face, and its accompanying helmet concealed and protected the back of my head. To sense anything, I was forced to rely on the artificial sensors within the mask. I even had to depend on it to breath – the mask created an airtight seal around my jaw, forcing me to use its artificial respirator, a despicable contraption that gave a _hisshurr_ audible from fifty feet away every time I drew breath. My voice wasn't even my own when I wore it! A vocoder scrambled my vocal patterns, projecting them as deeper and more mechanical than my own. I had to wear this monstrosity everywhere I went because Palpatine didn't want Anakin Skywalker, the famed Jedi good guy, as his apprentice – he wanted Darth Vader, the feared wielder of a destructive power beyond the perception of ordinary mortals. I knew that it instilled fear in everyone around me, and that that was the point of Darth Vader – the strong and far-reaching right arm of the Emperor but nothing more.

I scowled, my pace never faltering. That son of a bantha had well and truly insinuated himself into every facet of my life. And I loathed him for it. But patience was a far better route now than all-out revolution. I snorted. There was the part of me that spoke with the voice of The Jedi Who Shall Not Be Named – always yammering about patience and the value of a well-laid out plan. I had never fallen for his sermons, preferring to leave everything up to the Force. But leaving everything up to the Force had now put me in an awkward position: patience was the route to take now, contrary to everything I thought I was.

I looked around me. Wrapped up in my thoughts, I had traversed the same route I had always walked when _I_ had been a racer. Unfortunately, that placed me in the mechanic's barn: my feet had remembered the way _too_ well. A stick-thin girl no more than eight or nine strolled over to me from one of the pits, wiping her hands on a rag. I started – I felt an…_echo_ in the Force. It was almost as if something or some_one_ was reaching out to me and stroking my cheek. I was so overcome that I didn't realize what it was until the girl cocked her head: this was my mother, brought back from the dead and made thirty years younger. Except for her eyes…This girl's eyes were hard, as only the eyes of a Tatooinian dweller's could be. And they were brown. My mother's eyes had always been a soft blue, the color of the sky an hour after sunrise, and had never contained any negativity. This was not my mother.

I was thrown out of my reverie by the girl speaking up. "Spectators go that way," she said, jerking her head. Her voice was soft, but with an undeniable hint of steel behind it.

I nodded. "I'm terribly sorry – I've just never been to Tatooine before," I lied apologetically.

She looked sharply at me, then said slowly, "No…you've been to Tatooine before." She paused. "Was it Mos Eisley you came to?" she asked, unknowingly giving me the escape route I needed.

"Yeah, that's it," I said, disguising my relief with the confident self-assurance of a spacer. "Could you tell me the way to the spectator seating?" I asked, trying to bring my supposed swagger back in.

She was unimpressed. "Straight out the way you came, then take a left and follow that long avenue until you hit the bookie stands. Then take a right, follow the upward path, and you'll be at the stands."

"Thanks, …?" I said.

"El," she said, sticking her grease-covered hand out to me.

"Ani," I responded, taking her hand and shaking it. "Nice to meet you, El." With that, I jogged out of the mechanic's shed, taking the route she had described to me. To my surprise, her directions led me to a plateau that offered one of the best views the cheap seats had to offer. I was high enough up that I would be able to see everything for miles in every direction, and the seat itself wasn't too uncomfortable. I checked the chrono in my pack. The race was due to start in exactly three hours and seventeen minutes. _I might as well rest_.

I snoozed the next three hours, but like the Tatooinian I had never ceased to be, I slept with one eye open. The few times that pickpockets had started to wander over to me, I shifted in my 'sleep', exposing the blaster I had concealed under my vest. Needless to say, they left quickly in search of easier pickings.

Now, though, the buzz in the stands began to grow into a roar. The contestants were parading out before Jabba. I felt my teeth grind at seeing that old slimebag. Nothing would give me more satisfaction than to rip his throat out and destroy his sentient-trafficking crime ring. The anger that had been steadily growing against the Emperor these past nine years flared up, seeing his corruption in action. _He_ said that he was doing everything in his power to track down and arrest all of those involved in the slave-trafficking arena, but I knew with the certainty of the Force that the decrepit old man had made some sort of deal with the disgusting slug to ensure that the Hutt's forces wouldn't attempt to encroach on his power. I snarled softly. He gave big speeches about banishing corruption and destroying crime while at the same time, he made deals with the biggest crime lords in the galaxy, allowing slavery to thrive. The day was coming when he would be made to pay for his crimes. And I would be the one to do it.

I bent down and asked the rough-looking spacer in front of me which one was the human. He pointed. To my surprise, the human was _tiny_ – standing flat-footed, their head wouldn't touch the bottom of my ribcage. _A child_, I thought in wonder. They already had their helmet on, so I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl. I watched in interest as they prepared for the race, starting up the engines of a pod that looked thoroughly secondhand. After a moment's thought, I repented of that view, remembering that my own pod had been held together by not much more than GalactiTape, love and luck. As the engines of the other contestants started up, the roar of the crowd subsided. The starter held up the green flag. I felt a ripple in the Force, emanating from the human. The flag dropped and the race was on!

Immediately, two contestants dropped out due to system failure, the one shooting off too fast and losing control, and the engine of the other exploding. I shook my head in disgust. _Amateurs_. The human, though, was off to a good start. The viewing systems for the spectators had improved vastly in the twenty years I had been away: there was a huge screen highlighting the frontrunner and seven other screens which switched between the thirteen other contestants, eleven now that two were out of the picture. The human was holding their own in third place, but was hemmed in by twin racers before and behind them. A beacon began to form in the Force. I hadn't realized I had my eyes closed until I heard the crowd roar. I looked at the screens, trying to figure out what had happened. All I saw was that the human was now in second place and rapidly gaining on the frontrunner and that the twins' pods were one huge, smoking wreck. I kept my eyes open from then on. The human was doing their best to pass to the first position, but the leader was doing an excellent job of boxing them out. At the same time, I began feeling sparks of annoyance shooting off into the Force, all emanating from the same source – that human. They were into the cavern now, and the human's whole attention was forced away from passing and to the task of just keeping themself alive. But, the instant the two emerged into the blinding light, the human took their opportunity and with an enormous burst of speed, executed a perfect barrel roll and took the lead. The beacon in the Force was becoming stronger with every passing second. Now they were speeding over the flats and straight through the grandstands. The crowd was on its feet, every being cheering or jeering for the two contestants. _First circuit down. One more to go._ The human was trying to stretch their short lead, but the now-number-two racer was keeping pace, apparently biding their time. And biding their time they were – they chose the moment the two entered the cavern to ram the human in the side, placing them in the direct path of a huge stalactite. I fell back, feeling as if I had been punched in the gut: the human had literally_ exploded_ in the Force, filling themself to the brim with it. Just as quickly and skillfully as they had performed the barrel roll, they dodged the pillar and wove their way towards the light. Back in the canyon, they pushed forward with every scrap of speed they had toward their competitor. Effectively boxed in by the canyon's walls, they were forced to bide their time until they hit the flatlands to try and pass their adversary. The instant the canyon ended, the human dodged to the right and put on a burst of speed I wouldn't have thought possible from those worn-down engines. The frontrunner, however, had anticipated the move and countered with an angled run, keeping their pod between the human and the finish line. This went on for precious seconds. I felt anger, no, _fury_ stream into the Force. Desperation, strangely, accompanied it in equal measure. The human tried one more time to veer to the left, and the leader countered accordingly. It, however, had been a feint, for the human dragged the engines into an upward angle and began to vault over the other racer. It was a daring move, a last-ditch attempt to win. But their competitor was sharp – they drove in a sharp curve so when the human was too high for the repulsors to work efficiently, they were still in the lead. The human dropped back into second place with…_despair_? The two shot over the finish line, barely a half-second apart.

The crowd descended upon the victor with a roar, lifting him up and carrying him toward Jabba's box where he would be presented with the trophy and a cash prize. But my eyes were on the human: they climbed from their pod and pulled off their helmet. Shoulder-length brown hair cascaded out. _A girl?_ Not just any girl – the girl from the mechanics' barn, El. She flung her helmet into the pod and sat down the dust. She propped her elbows on her knees and put her head on her hands. I watched as an elderly Dug and a much younger one loped over to her. The elderly Dug laid a hand on her shoulder; she looked up and nodded her head, then shook it, her chin resting on her chest. I saw her mouth something, but felt it reverberate through the force, projected by the force of her pain: "That was my last chance." Something was not right here.

I hurried out of the nearly-abandoned grandstand, hoping to be at the mechanics' shed before she left. Today, my luck was holding: as I was approaching the corner, I heard the soft pad of cloth boots on sand. I halted and watched as she padded off, a small pack slung across her shoulders. Unsure why exactly I was doing this, I shadowed her. As I ducked through alleyways and rounded corners, I heard the almost-inaudible sniffs she made regularly – the sniffs that one made when one felt like crying but was trying desperately to keep it in. Too late I realized that the path she was walking was one I had trodden times uncountable. _No, no… Anywhere but there!_ I ducked behind a corner, concealing myself, but still observing intently the girl's conversation with an all-too recognizable Toydarian:

"I'm sorry, Watto," she said in a small voice.

"It's alla right. Youa did your best," he responded. He sighed. "Iya owed it toa your father to let youa race. Iya wish I coulda keep you..."

"Because I earn you money?" she responded in a wry tone.

He smiled like it was an old joke. "Because you remind me of youra grandma," he responded with a grin, ruffling her hair. "I'll trya to bid ona you tomorrow, but I don't think I'll be able toa win you back."

Both projected true sadness into the Force. "Thank you Watto," she said softly. "You have been a wonderful master. I'm very sad to leave you."

"I'm sad that you'ra leaving too, Leia." _Leia_. El, L – of course! Finally, a name. One facet of the enigma that was this nine-year-old girl.

* * *

VVV

* * *

Aloha, faithful readers! I have a question for you: what's my nerd reading on a scale of 1 to 10 that whenever I hear Kelly Clarkson's _Dark Side_, I immediately think of Star Wars?

On another random music-related note, when I heard _Cowboy Casanova_, I had a really vivid mental image of a Dark Side Luke :D Be forewarned, gentle reader, that when this author has a vivid mental image, a oneshot is on its way!

Reviews, ah reviews! *tosses candy and Dark side chocolate to all the reviewers* Thanks a bunch – I love you all!

A note about updates: I'm going to be updating this on Friday before I leave on vacation, but after that, nothing's for sure. Please feel free to leave lots of comments (ahem ahem _reviews_) so that I can write on the trip and give you a bunch of chapters when I get back ;)


	5. Part 1: Chapter 4

The Slave's Gain, Part 1: What Profit?

"_For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?"_

_~Luke 9:25_

"_Adversity is a great teacher, but this teacher makes us pay dearly for its instruction; and often the profit we derive is not worth the price we paid." _

_Elizabeth Hardwick_

Chapter 4

I spent the night on my ship, but didn't get a wink of sleep. The Force was trying to tell me something, but I couldn't latch onto it, no matter how hard I tried. I finally gave up when the light of the suns began trickling over the horizon. I proceeded to pace the length of my ship, trying to fit together the pieces I had been given. The girl's name was Leia – that was a start. Leia was incredibly powerful in the Force – not as powerful as I, but still enough to be a match for a Sith as powerful as Sidious. She was a slave. She belonged to Watto, but he was going to have to give her up? Now things began getting foggier. Watto never gave up anything valuable without dragging his feet every step of the way. What was going on here? Then in a rush of understanding, I understood: Watto had got himself deep into debt with his love of gambling, just as my mother had always said he would, leaving him with nothing to do but bet even more on the next race – a race where his own slave, an extraordinary and upcoming racer was projected to place very high. But he lost his bet when Leia lost her race, and now he was left with no other choice but to sell his highly lucrative slave and possibly his other assets to pay off his mounting debts. Another thing fell into place – when I walked through the streets of Mos Espa the previous day, I had caught snatches of conversation regarding an upcoming slave auction scheduled for the very next day. That's where she would be, I was now sure. I checked the chrono on the wall of the cockpit – _05:13_. I had fifteen minutes to get there before they opened. Then I pulled up short – why was I going to such lengths for such an insignificant child? I realized that even if the girl wasn't Force-sensitive, I would still be prepared to save her from this horrific life. The Force must be guiding me. I grabbed a nutribar and with another nudge from the Force, my lightsaber, and sprinted out.

* * *

I sat in the cage at the back of the podium, staring out at the faces of the buyers jammed in the courtyard. The thoughts and emotions swirling among them could only be described as _hungry_. I shivered. I wasn't old enough yet where someone would buy me as a pleasure toy and not as a valuable mechanic, but that time was fast approaching. I watched as Hana, a friend I had made last night was sold off to an older human man with a much younger wife. The wife's thoughts were…_perfumed_ almost: they stank of vanity and the desire to appear rich. Hana had gotten off lucky. She was probably going to serve as the lady's maid. Things could be worse. As they dragged the next slave up to the podium, I looked around the courtyard again.

* * *

Four hours had passed, and I was still standing in the crowded courtyard that was serving as the auction's center. Four hours and twenty-two beings with souls later, and I was steaming. No words existed in Basic to describe the emotions I felt at seeing living, breathing beings treated like less than machine parts. Huttese, however, offered a much more colorful vocabulary. My anger had been slowly burning, building in strength all morning. At this moment in time, I wanted nothing more than to kill every single being in this square that was profiting from this. I gritted my teeth and endured. I was here for the little girl, nothing more.

* * *

As I looked around the courtyard this time, I hit a mind dead on. I sat back, reeling, at the power in the man's mind. I had never encountered anyone quite like him. He had a … a _fire_ within him, a lifetime's worth of anger and hatred and sorrow boiling up within him. He was the first person I had met who actually shared images with me – most other beings just broadcast emotions. His thoughts had a clarity to them that I had never felt. Even though he stood in the back of the market, I could hear (and see!) them; as he watched the auction, they became clearer by the second. He had a lightsaber clipped to his belt. I knew it the way I knew so many other things: I could feel his thoughts turning more and more to it, his mind forming an image that became clearer every second. I could feel his desire to take it out becoming stronger by the moment. Could he be a Jedi? Anakin Skywalker was a Jedi after he left Tatooine – maybe this man had met him! Strangely, I could sense that the focusing lens of the moment for his anger, which sprang from countless events and choices, was the auction – seeing beings bound and sold like machine parts.

I gave a small laugh that contained no amusement. Machine parts. If only it were that simple – find the right piece and voila, your problem is fixed. If only. I sighed in bitter frustration. Yesterday had been my last chance to earn my freedom, and what did I do? I blew it. Literally. I shook my head in anger at myself. The repulsors had been pushed too hard. I should have known; I had felt them straining. But no, I just _had_ to push my luck. I called myself ten kinds of idiot, starting in Basic and ending in Huttese.

"Item 771," the auctioneer called out. I was pulled to my feet, my heart sinking down to my ankles. This was it. This was the end.

* * *

I watched as the girl was forcibly marched to the front of the stage. I could feel equal parts anger and sadness warring within her heart. Wait. Since when did I have an empathy link with nine-year-old girls I had never seen before?

"Ten credits, do I hear ten credits?" the auctioneer called out, and so the monetary race began for the fiercest human being I had ever seen. I watched, silent, for a few moments, then realized something: I couldn't let some sleazebag take this child. If she was to be protected, I wanted to be the one to do it.

"A hundred and two," I called out. Some heads turned, but I was just another face, another vagrant from off-planet. Soon, however, the price range became too high for all but me and one other being – a pale Twil'ek I had only seen once or twice in my lifetime: Bib Fortuna. The thought of this girl who had so much potential and a long life ahead of her going and dancing for Jabba made me sick to my stomach. It also hardened my resolve to win her, no matter what the consequences. Finally, thanks be to the Force, Fortuna gave up. I walked up to the podium and handed over a seven hundred credit chip. The 'banker' was counting out my change and Leia was being marched over to me, when I felt the Force ringing with a warning – danger. Immediately, I placed myself between her and whoever else it was. My lightsaber was out and already batting aside the bolt that came out of nowhere at _me_. Immediately the place erupted in a panic.

So that's what this was – an assassination attempt. I cursed the Rebels in twenty different languages, starting with Basic and ending in Huttese. Any other time, I would have gone after them, but this time, I had someone who needed protection. I couldn't just leave her now. I had a duty to protect this kid, through my own will or the will of the Force, whatever it might be. With my body slipping into muscle memory, I was free to wonder how the hell they found me. Then I realized. _Samil_. I cursed loudly, but felt a hand hit me lightly on the side. It was Leia. Her eyes were alight with wariness, but she seemed to accept that at the moment, I was her ally. What surprised me was her complete lack of shock at seeing my lightsaber. Had she somehow known I had it? This situation was rapidly becoming very interesting.

"What?" I said, having to yell over the roar of the stampeding crowd.

"Can you cover me while I get a blaster?" she yelled back. I looked down at her with renewed respect and nodded. Moving as one, we ran over to the body of a fallen market guard. Leia pulled his two pistols from his pockets, shoving one in her own pocket and palming the second. She closed her eyes, and I felt her connection to the Force blossom out. Her eyes still shut, she lifted the pistol and fired off one shot. The blaster bolts coming from that area decreased by about a third. No way. She had picked off a sniper from thirty meters away, hitting him through the tiny view hole. It was something I wasn't sure I could have done – a feat so monumental that it just underlined for me this girl's incredible Force potential. I watched as she picked them off one by one, her eyes still closed.

Suddenly the bolts began pouring in again. Reinforcements had arrived. I looked around the tangled mass of beings trying so desperately to escape. Somehow, I had to get this girl, Leia, out of here. I saw one, two, three different routes before something occurred to me: if I was going to be her teacher, shouldn't I assess her other skills? I tilted my head down to her and yelled, "We have to get out of here! Do you see a way out?"

She looked up at me, confused. No, not confused – incredulous. "You came in here without scouting out escape routes? What were you thinking?" she yelled back. She rolled her eyes. "There are nine different ways out of here. The two main ones are clogged, two are covered by the snipers, and three are too small for you. That leaves the one through the holding pens and the one through the offices."

Now I was impressed. Silently, I thanked the Force for sending me this child. "Lead us out of here: I'll cover us!" I yelled down to her. She nodded and fired off one last shot, her brow furrowed in concentration. She darted to her right, and I hurried to catch up, batting aside most of the frenzy of blaster bolts and dodging the rest. Leia led us into a low, squat clay building and through its winding passages. Pale lights flickered overhead, and clouds of the ever-present Tatooinian dust swirled up as we ran. I sent my mind out ahead of us, but I didn't feel any other minds. I felt sharply that the girl was doing the exact same thing, only unconsciously. Finally, we went through a rusty door that felt like it hadn't been opened in decades, and we emerged, blinking, into the glare of the midday suns. As soon as I had my bearings, I said quietly to her, "This way." She seemed to accept my leadership and followed me without question. I asked her quietly if there was anything she possessed that she wanted to bring. She looked surprised at my concern but nodded nonetheless. Soon we were at Watto's shop. I couldn't bring myself to step over the threshold, but Leia darted in and was out within three minutes, a pack slung over her shoulder. As we walked away from the shop, I noticed that she was beginning to lag; I slowed down to a walk. Both of us were too on edge after the incident in the marketplace to talk, so we just walked in silence.

The Force must have been guiding us, for we didn't encounter another enemy sniper the rest of our trudge to the hangar bay. Once her eyes had adjusted to the dimmer lighting of the bay and she saw my ship, Leia lit up. She walked all around my ship, stroking it, feeling its sleek contours, her eyes wide in awe. "You fly an ARC-170? No way!" she exclaimed.

"Yep," I said proudly. "I modified her myself. She's been clocked at point four past lightspeed."

Her eyes, if it was possible, got even wider. Then they narrowed in confusion. "Why would a spacer be flying a modified ARC-170?" she asked.

I laughed. "I'm not a spacer, kid. This is just one of my disguises."

"Then what do you do?"

"It's a long story. I'll tell you once we're in hyperspace."

She shrugged casually, trying to hide her growing anxiety.

"Go hop in. I'll be up in a second," I told her, trying to sound reassuring. I wasn't sure it worked. I could see in her eyes the wariness that characterized a slave. I walked off to pay the owner of the hangar. I didn't look back to see what she was going to do.

* * *

I watched the strange man who was now my master stroll off. I could run off right now, and he would never be able to find me. I knew the 'tracking device' that had been implanted in my arm wasn't real. I knew how to survive and prosper on Tatooine. My freedom was there, dangling by the open hangar door. But something inside of me called out for me to trust him – it was that strange voice that whispered in my dreams and translated the thoughts of those around me. And nothing inside him spoke of bad intent towards me. I gritted my teeth and…just stood there. But before I could even come close to making up my mind, the man strolled back. Now it was too late. I climbed up the ladder into the ship. The man followed, pulling up the ladder and closing the porthole.

"You're going to be flying copilot, kid," he said. When I didn't move, unsure of where exactly I was supposed to go, he pointed to the front of the ship at the right-hand seat. I went and sat down, letting my fingers slide lightly over the many switches on the dashboard. I was on a ship, a real ship. And not only that, I was going to be flying copilot! Some of my worries about this man evaporated. He couldn't be all bad if he let a kid who had probably never flown in her life sit as copilot! He went through the pre-flight pattern I had learned about, but I noticed something – he wasn't paying any attention whatsoever. He was just letting his fingers move of their own accord. It was something that I knew I did as I fixed droids – it was something I had done it so many times that I didn't have to even think. He was a truly experienced pilot then. Soon we were up and off, as smooth as oil over metal. Before long, we were out of Tatooine's atmosphere. I looked back, knowing I would probably never see the desert planet again. I sighed. I had friends behind me, but a new life ahead of me. And I was going to make the most of it. Soon the stars seemed to speed toward me, and we entered the streaking, swirling tunnel of blue that was hyperspace.

* * *

Without any further ado, Leia asked me, "So, if you're not a spacer, what are you?"

I grinned at her frankness. "I fly ships for a living, transporting and distributing different…commodities." She didn't bat an eye at the strange economical language – of course she wouldn't, growing up as a slave and being considered a commodity herself! What was I thinking? I had been in the exact same position twenty-two years ago. Had it been that long? I really was getting old. The silence was weighing on me. I cleared my throat and said, "Was that the first time you had raced in the Podraces?"

She sighed and shook her head. "No, but it was my last. Flickin, that little..." Here she swore in Huttese with a colorful viciousness that surprised me. I wasn't sure _I_ knew those curses when I was her age; but, I supposed, my mother had tried her best to keep my language clean.

I raised my eyebrows in mock censure and said in Huttese, "If there is going to be any swearing done on this ship, I will be the one to do it!"

Her eyes widened. "How do you know Huttese?" she asked in the same language.

"I grew up on Tatooine too. Actually," I said, switching to Toydarian, "I was a slave too."

"You were?" she responded, unconsciously switching languages. I nodded. "Do you know Watto the junk shop dealer?" I asked, knowing full well that she did.

She nodded. "He was my old master," she said softly.

"He was mine too."

"How did you become free?" she demanded.

"I competed in the Podraces, actually. A friend gambled on me in the races, and freed me with his winnings." A half-truth, I knew, but a necessary one to gain her trust.

Her eyes lit up. "Would you want to race against me? I never get any competition until the race itself, and then I'm fighting for my life."

I grinned, remembering the chaotic thrill of racing. "Has someone been coaching you?" I asked, for there were a few moves that she had executed that I felt like I should recognize.

"Yeah. An old Dug named Sebulba has taken me under his wing (as much it's possible for a Dug!)" she added under her breath.

"_Sebulba_? _Sebulba _has been teaching you?" I cried out in shock.

"Do you know him?"

"Know him? I raced against him more times than I can count, and I came this close to death every single time!" I exclaimed, showing with my fingers the tiny margin by which I had escaped . But I realized I wasn't angry – I was just feeling reminiscent excitement. _Maybe that's why it was so much fun to race him_. "Have you ever raced against him?" I asked her.

"No, but I have raced against his son - well, trained alongside him is more accurate." Now she had the air of someone carrying a special secret. "The two of them are secretly rooting for me," she said, grinning. "Sebulba really wants, _wanted_," she corrected herself sadly, "for me to be free."

"How do you know that?" I asked, bemused and very intrigued. I had never met a Force-sensitive that could read others' minds without training their whole life for it.

She shrugged "I just do." She thought a bit, then laughed, a beautiful, ringing sound. "From the way he tells it, the only being _he_ ever lost to was a human named Anakin Skywalker. He speaks of him angrily but he has a deep respect for the guy."

"How do you know these things?"

"I dunno," she said, shrugging again. "I feel them, I guess."

* * *

I looked sidelong at the man. How could one describe what I did, what I had been doing for as long as I could remember? It was like asking a bird how it flew – it just _did_.

He was silent for a few moments, scrutinizing me with an intensity that unsettled me. If that was how _I _looked at people, I understood now why people walked away unnerved. Then he broke the silence saying, "What else have you heard about Anakin Skywalker?" There was something, some hidden emotion or forgotten memory drifting around him.

I scrutinized him in return, putting all the power of my thoughts into searching out that something he was hiding. To keep his attention on me, I answered his question, relieved to have something that had become an integral part of who I was come out. For some reason, I didn't want to hide anything from this man. Then I halted: it was an outside voice advising this, an utterly foreign but alluring voice that urged me to trust this man. I resisted, but decided to tell him what I knew and not necessarily what I suspected: "Well, I know that he remains the only human to not only survive, but also _win_ the Boonta Eve Classic! He was born on Tatooine, he was a slave like me, and…" Here my voice dropped to a whisper. "From what I've heard, he went on to become a Jedi." My voice returned. The voice pressed harder. It was becoming more and more difficult to resist. To my shame, I caved, but buried the burning hope that name ignited within me beneath my anger. I would never tell anyone of that; it was _mine_, and when you're a slave, you value even more the things that truly belong to you. "All the old-timers swear that I'm him reincarnated – it's something about my way with machines," I said quietly, avoiding eye contact with the man. Something strange began spiraling from him. In an attempt to change the subject back to one I was comfortable with, I asked, "When you were in the Podraces, did you ever race against Anakin Skywalker?"

He was so well trained that his body didn't react, but nonetheless, I felt his mental flinch. "Why do you want to know?" he said a little harshly. Now _he_ was the one avoiding eye contact.

I looked down at my lap, with it suddenly hitting me just how alone I was. I blinked the stinging tears from my eyes. "Never mind," I mumbled.

He looked back over to me, something softening in his eyes. "Child, why do you want to know?" he said more gently. Somehow we both knew that we were no longer talking about past podracers.

I wavered, my gaze captured by those blue eyes, as beautiful and deadly as the Tatooine sky. Something within me broke, and the tears began falling. "Because…because I think he's my father!" I said, trembling.

The spinning tumble of emotions that surrounded him picked up into a whirlwind. "What did you say?" he said in shock. When I didn't answer, petrified by those penetrating eyes, he grabbed my shoulders, pulled me close, and said in a powerful voice that echoed through my whole body, "What did you say?"

I gritted my teeth and broke eye contact. He had scared me, and that fear gave me the power to resist him. "Why do you want to know?" I said, letting all my hate, anger, and fear out.

He looked taken aback, even hurt. He knelt down beside my chair and took my hands. "Child, what is your name? Please, just tell me. Child, I must know – what is your name?" he pleaded. There was no trace of the foreign voice pressing down on me now.

I considered him for a moment. Everything he was saying and desiring bore with it the chord of truth, as pure a sound as the light of undisguised hope shining in his eyes was genuine. I met his gaze firmly and said with pride, "My name is Leia Skywalker."

Everything that he was feeling at that moment expanded a hundredfold – no, not a hundredfold, a _thousandfold_. He was like a Tatooinian dust storm contained within human form. "Why do you want to know?" I demanded again.

"_I'm_ Anakin Skywalker!" he exclaimed. The voice that had guided me all those years on Tatooine whispered _Truth_ in my ear. Silently, he opened his arms. Without a word, I flung myself into them. Suddenly, we were laughing and crying at the same tears, the salty drops soaking each other's clothes. He pulled back and looked me up and down. "Oh, if only your mother could have seen you," he said, sadness mingling with his happiness. "If only _my_ mother could have seen you! You look just like her…" he murmured, cupping my cheek in his palm. Now he was weeping, years of pent-up sadness and bitterness spilling out of him. The dark sadness within him began to overwhelm him. I had known that this man was my father for all of two minutes, and already I wanted to comfort him. I reached tentatively over and touched his arm. He looked up, pain and hurt beyond measure in his eyes, and some of it melted away when he realized what I was doing. I reached over and wrapped my arms around his torso, and his arms enveloped me. They were strong arms and his chest was hard with muscle, but he smelled comfortingly of metal, sweat, and engine grease. I never wanted to leave this circle of protection and love. I had finally found where I belonged.

* * *

VVV

* * *

Hi everybody! I'm really sorry I didn't update last week. Today is the first day that I have had both reliable internet access and the time to take advantage of it, so here's your chapter. Part 1 is _done_! I go back to school next week (sob, sob) and everyone and their cousin is going to be wanting me to be doing something for them; in other words, I have no idea how long it's going to be until the next chapter :(

Reviewers, you've probably figured out that I am really bad about getting back to you personally, and for that I apologize. But thank you _so_ much! :)


	6. Part 2: Chapter 1

The Slave's Gain, Part 2: Throne of Hearts

"_Oh happy kings, whose thrones are raised on their subjects' hearts." _

_~John Ford_

_"__You change your life by changing your heart.__"_

_~?_

Chapter 1

I sat in my office, my gaze riveted on the holoprojector. Beside me, Obi-Wan stood, his expression becoming more serious by the second.

The figure that dominated the projection was in the midst of a press conference. He was tall and powerfully built and though the blue holo didn't show it, he was clothed all in black, from black gauntlets and chest armor to a long, flowing cloak. But what truly drew the eye was the mask that covered his face: made from shiny black plastisteel, it was molded in the shape of a horrific, skull-like face. It was recognizable, but today it seemed even more fearsome, especially accompanied by the words its owner had just pronounced. His deep, mechanical voice echoed effortlessly from the holograph into every corner of the room.

"As your new Emperor, my first act is to present my daughter, Lady Vader. Let all worlds know that she is my Heir, my strong right hand." Another figure walked into the holo. She was small, even for a young girl. Like her father, she was wrapped in a dark cloak, but she had the hood up. The holo was obviously being taken from a distance, for her face was blurry. Then the holo zoomed in, and I couldn't help but gasp: a mask obscured the top half of her face, a mask both beautiful in its swirling patterns of colored beads and horrific. Lighter beads that had to be red outlined her eyes, giving them a demonic cast. Or maybe it was just her eyes. They were dark and were eyes of a much older person. They were the eyes of a person who had seen far too much. Seeing those eyes in the face of a girl no older than my Luke was terrifying.

Caught up in my own worries, I hadn't even noticed Obi-Wan. He was half-kneeling on the floor, as pale as I had ever seen him. "Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan!" I exclaimed. "What's wrong?" His eyes were glazed over with a sheen that came from a deep, heart-renching pain. He was seeing nothing but the two figures on the screen, one tall and powerfully built and the other small and slim, but both cloaked in the same black robes.

"Force…" he murmured. "Oh Force, he found her."

"Who? Who did he find?" I asked, sudden fear gripping my heart: Obi-Wan was never like this.

Obi-Wan looked up at me bleakly. "He found Leia."

* * *

VVV

* * *

Greetings, faithful readers! I regret to say that I completely underestimated just how much time and energy school would be requiring of me this year. I've written Part 2, but the ending chapters of Part 3 are eluding me. In other words, I'm at a stalemate with this story. I'm going to try to set aside more time to write, but nothing is for sure, this year especially.

I might as well throw out the rest of the bad news while I'm at it: Princess of Darkness, the next in my Lady of Shadows series, is waaaaaaaaay behind schedule. I have no clue when it's going to be ready for publication :(

*creepy zombie voice* Reviews...Reviews...Must have reviews...


	7. Part 2: Chapter 2

The Slave's Gain, Part 2: Throne of Hearts

"_Oh happy kings, whose thrones are raised on their subjects' hearts." _

_~John Ford_

_"__You change your life by changing your heart.__"_

_~?_

Chapter 2

I kicked my feet against the seat of our transport. Daddy was taking me with him to the emergency meeting of the Senate to discuss the transition of power. At least that was what he said. All I knew was that Obi-Wan was leaving Alderran, and I would never find another teacher as patient as he had been. He had left a week ago. I thought back to the last day I had seen him:

I was sitting with Daddy and Obi-Wan in Daddy's office. Obi-Wan was teaching me how to know if someone was trying to enter my mind. A comm call came in. Daddy listened to it, then walked to the holoprojector and turned it on. It whirred to life. Daddy had worry in his eyes. Daddy only turned it on if he was going to be having a conversation with a faraway Senator; but our head of security would tell Daddy to turn on the holoprojector if there was a piece of news that documented a threat against the Organa family, the planet of Alderran, or the galaxy in general. A news broadcast came up: it was obviously a press conference, with a big man in a scary mask at the podium. The next thing I knew, I was being half-pulled, half-pushed out the door by Daddy. He closed and locked the door before I could even say anything. I stared at the heavy wooden door. What could have made Daddy as scared as that? I thought for a bit, then I smiled – Daddy didn't know that I had found a way to make my hearing better. I didn't know what exactly what it was I did, I just knew that if I concentrated and thought only about that, it would work. Not even Obi-Wan knew I could do it. I listened for a while, but both men were silent. The newscast must have finished, for they finally started talking. I hurried to fine-tune my ears, making sure I caught every word. I still missed a bit, but what I heard was this:

"…_he find?" _Daddy asked_._

"_He found Leia," _Obi-Wan said, sounding sad even through the door. After a long pause, he said_,_ _"Bail, I have to leave Alderran. Immediately. It's no longer safe for me to be here."_

"_We are willing to take the risks!" _Daddy exclaimed.

Obi-Wan was silent_. "Bail, that is a noble gesture, and nothing less than I would expect from you, but you have to be realistic – you must see that it's not safe for me or for you anymore." _When he still didn't respond, Obi-Wan's voice tightened_. "Bail, I came to Alderran to protect Luke. I'm leaving for the same reason." _Sudden pain hit him, but he still remained silent_. "Bail, you don't want Vader taking any special notice of Alderran if you can help it. And discovering a Jedi Master, and one that he has a powerful grudge against at that, would attract more than enough Imperial attention to place the Royal House under close scrutiny for the rest of all time. Then the Emperor, or his new apprentice, would start wondering why a Force-sensitive with enormous potential who _is not your biological son_ is the heir apparent. Luke _must not be discovered_, Bail!" _That last was almost a shout.

Now it was my daddy's turn to be silent_. "You've made your point, Obi-Wan. But there's still something I don't understand: you could hide from Palpatine, the most cunning Sith Lord in the history of the galaxy, but you can't hide from them?" _

"_But that's the key, Bail – he was cunning, and he was powerful, yes, but he had one fatal flaw – he believed what he wanted to believe. He was so consumed with his sense of his own importance that little things slipped by him, like the trifle of my existence. And Master Yoda had been manipulating the images in the Force surrounding him, showing him what he wanted to see." _He shrugged_. "Vader is not so easily manipulated, especially now that he has completely destroyed the last being who had any semblance of control over him. And the girl…" _He took a long and shuddering breath in._ "She is just like her father," _he whispered. I could tell that he turned away, hiding his face from my dad_. "We can leave it at that."_

I returned to the present and the smooth flight to the Imperial Senate. I ventured a hesitant glance at Daddy. His body was relaxed and his face calm, but I _knew_ just how worried he was. But I couldn't just let this drop – I had to know why Obi-Wan had to leave us!

I tugged on his sleeve. "Daddy?"

He turned to me as if wrenching himself out of his thoughts. "Hm?"

"Why did Master Obi-Wan have to leave?" I asked.

Daddy suddenly became very pale. He leaned in very close to me and whispered, "Luke, you have no idea of the danger you would be putting not only Master Kenobi but also the entire population of Aldera City in if someone chanced to hear you." His face had that serious look he only got when he was scared. Real scared.

I nodded my head dutifully, but my curiosity hadn't been swept away. All I knew was that it had something to do with the man in the mask and the broadcast he had made about him being the new emperor. And I was going to figure it out just like Detective Raaka Shir did in the Coruscant Detective holonovels. I was going to do some detective work.

* * *

I kicked my feet against my seat in the Imperial Box, impatient for a break. My father shot me a look. I couldn't actually see it because of his mask, but I felt it through the Force. I sighed and sat still. When Daddy had said that we were going to rule the galaxy, he hadn't told me that that would mean doing nothing but sitting quietly and listening to blathering idiots all day! My cloak was hot. And the seat hurt my rear. And that dumb mask itched. Daddy shot me another look when I started to fidget. I looked at him in outrage – all I was doing was shifting myself so I could sit on my hands. That way I wouldn't be tempted to scratch at my mask. Other rebellious thoughts traveled through my head. Finally, the Force smiled to me, and a Senator called for a temporary adjournment. Before my dad had a chance to say a word, I was out the door of our pod and sprinting away.

_LEIA!_ His voice echoed through my skull. I gritted my teeth and tried to resist. As always, he was able to break through my walls. As soon as he had done so, he said _Leia, I want you to find some Imperial kids to play with. Joey Tarkin is a good kid. Why don't you find him?_ I rolled my eyes. Joey Tarkin was the epitome of arrogance, selfishness, and pompousness. Didn't my dad know _anything_? Apparently not, for he went on to say, _Melinda Motti's family are good, loyal Imperials. She'd be fun to play with._ There was nothing for me to shake my head wearily. Melinda Motti was fat, with small piggy eyes and zero imagination. Her head was even emptier than Joey's. I was about to walk off and find something exciting to do on my _own _when my father added, _And under no circumstances are you to play with Organa's child. Nothing but bad accompanies that family._ I shrugged and cut the connection. I didn't know who the Organas were, and I didn't care.

I wandered for a while, before I found myself looking out into the Senate Arboretum. I stood still, staring at the expanse of _green_ before me. I ran through the flower beds, making sure to not trample on the tiny plants, then swung from the branches of the shorter trees. Once I had gotten myself well and truly lost – which had been my intention – I happened upon the baby wroshyr grove. Brought to Coruscant seven centuries ago, the informational plaque said, the three trees were mere saplings in comparison to their siblings on their native Kashyyk. I gazed up in awe: they were _huge_, a vast expanse of rough browns and pure greens as far up as I could see. I circled one and discovered that someone had carved a set of steps into the outermost layer of bark. Eagerly, I followed it, caught up in the magic of the living giant I was touching. Up and up and up, I went. Finally, the path leveled off a little, and I found myself walking onto a basin-like platform formed by the spread of the biggest branches and the skillful carving of the Wookiees.

Caught up in the glory spreading out above me, I didn't notice the boy until he called out a welcome to me. I whirled around and took him in in a glance. He looked to be about my age, with blond hair and blue eyes – a 'child of the suns' the old folk on Tatooine would have called him. His clothes were all white. None of his thoughts contained plans to harm me. He cocked his head when I didn't respond. I remembered myself and smiled.

"Is it alright if I join you?" I asked, remembering some of the manners my protocol droid had been teaching me.

He smiled and said, "Sure." He stuck out his hand. "My name's Luke. What's yours?"

"El," I answered and shook his hand. There was silence for a little while as I explored the nooks and crannies of this vast basin. Then I sensed his curiosity for me. Internally, I shrugged. Why not make a few friends? I turned back to him and asked him where he was from. He brightened and replied that he was from Alderran, then returned the question. That gave me pause: where exactly _was_ I from? The only place I had ever known was Tatooine, but there were vague recollections of other, more colorful places that I could only bring to mind in my dreams. And I didn't look like a native of Tatooine at all, aside from my leanness (which was disappearing) and my tan (which was also disappearing). I had dark brown hair, which wasn't all that uncommon, but also brown eyes, which were incredibly rare on the largely blue-eyed planet. But all the same, it was the only home I had ever known.

"Tatooine," I responded. "I'm from Tatooine."

He gave a polite smile, and we returned to silence.

I looked back over at him – he seemed to be screwing up his courage to ask me something. With a burst of courage, Luke asked me, "Why do you wear that mask?"

"My daddy says that I have to. And _nobody_ argues with my daddy!" I said, smiling.

He smiled too. "People argue with my daddy all the time," he said. "But nobody ever wins." I laughed. His eyes brightened. "Have you ever played Troopers and Jedi?" he asked excitedly.

I shook my head. "What is it?" I asked, a little worried. He explained that it was a game, a kind of tag. I smiled, relieved – even slaves knew how to play tag. Four or five people were chosen as the Jedi, and the rest were the Troopers. The Troopers' job was to catch the Jedi, and the Jedi's job was to evade the Troopers. The Jedi would hide, and the Troopers would go and find them. If a Jedi tagged a Trooper before the Trooper saw them, the Trooper was 'dead' and had to sit down. But if the Trooper tagged the Jedi, the Jedi was 'dead' and had to sit down. The game ended when one side was left standing. Luke said that he played it all the time with other Senate kids, and if I wanted to play it, he could get a group together really fast. I nodded excitedly. Luke came back a few minutes later with twelve other kids – some humans, a couple Twil'eks, a Togruta, a Wookiee, and a Cerean. Luke introduced me to them and said that since it was my first time, I should get to be a Jedi. The other kids shrugged consent. The Troopers, of which Luke was one, huddled around a pillar and closed their eyes to count. The Togruta, whose name was Shaara, showed me a couple of hiding spots, then darted off to find her own. I crouched behind a gigantic fern pot and tried to make myself as small as possible.

I heard the countdown echo through the halls. "Six….five….four….three….two….one….Fear the might of the Army!" nine voices rang out. I took a breath in and _listened_ for the Troopers coming, the way my daddy had been teaching me to listen. Soon, I _heard_ the padded approach of one of the humans. They were edging along the wall, limiting their visibility so as to better sneak up on a Jedi. I slowly sank to my stomach to watch them approach – it was one of the boys, the red-haired Chandrilan Luke had named as Flin. With my excellent new position I could see anyone approaching, but they wouldn't be able to see me unless they were crawling on their bellies. I could hear his thoughts, feel him developing his plan of attack: get to the fern, then stay there until he heard the signal. My eyes narrowed in thought. Luke was without a doubt the one engineering this whole plan; he, ultimately, was my opponent. I grinned (I seemed to be doing that a lot more these days) – this was _much_ more fun than listening to boring Senate referendathingies! I watched Flin scoot along the wall until he was almost right on top of me. He looked around, then ducked down, intending to hide under the large leaves. As he turned around, I tagged him on the chest. His eyes were as big as saucers, but not a sound escaped his lips. From that alone, I deduced another rule of the game – once you were dead, you remained absolutely silent. I pulled Flin deeper into the fern, leaving him sitting within the large pot; I returned to my spot. As I was moving Flin, I had heard three other kids, including the Wookiee pad through the large hall and find hiding places surrounding and in the baby wroshyrs where I had heard most of my Jedi friends disappear.

I heard another human padding along, hugging the wall. This was the Qalitan, Maka. Her intentions were the same as Flin's had been. The same thing happened. _Two down, seven to go._ Then an earsplitting whistle echoed through the hall. With a yell, all the Troopers left their hiding spots and stormed the cluster of wroshyrs. I heard shouts of laughter and mock panic as the Jedi discovered within the trees tried to escape. The three of them were eventually caught and sat down, smiling. Shaara and I were the only two left. Two other Troopers got taken out in the rush – Luke was not one of them, I noted. The remaining Troopers fanned out across the courtyard. Two of the remaining five headed straight for my fern. I motioned to Flin and Maka to scoot back into the fern. They obliged, curious as to what I would do next. I sat where they had previously been, my back against their knees. The two Troopers – one the freckled Corellian boy and the other the Wookiee – had obviously played this game many times; I gave them a lot of credit. They played it smart, approaching the pot from opposite sides. But I played it smarter: when they both stuck their heads in under the fronds, I was already in position to tag them from above. I pulled them in and gestured to the pot where Flin and Maka were sitting. The four exchanged rueful grins.

I resumed my position on the floor. Two of the remaining Troopers – Luke and the Cerean – were exploring the far side of the chamber. The third I didn't see: the last place I had seen him was near the gigantic draperies I had seen Shaara disappear into. _Good for her_, I thought with a smile. Now if only we could communicate and make a plan of attack together. But there was nothing but empty floor space between my pot and her draperies. Then I saw them shift ever so slightly near the bottom. The lights of the hall glinted off of Shaara's dark eyes, making them glow like little lights: they were the only thing that allowed me to see her. Once I knew that she had seen me in turn, I told her via hand gestures to get to the far end of her curtains. She complied. I ducked out of the protective fern and began quietly making my way across the hall. I had made it half of the way to the two remaining Troopers when Luke turned around and saw me. He gave a yell, the other Trooper turned around, and they both sprinted after me. I pasted a look of panic on my face and ran. I led them on quite the chase, gradually drawing them towards the draperies. Luke and the Cerean were closing in. At the last second, I dropped to the floor and rolled out of their path. They both flew past, carried by their momentum straight into the draperies. Shaara grabbed the end of the long curtain and hurriedly wrapped them up in it. Breathing hard, but with a smile of triumph, I tapped them both on the head. They both nodded in acceptance of our victory, with Luke smiling in a cute "Aw shucks" kind of way.

"The Jedi win!" Luke yelled out to the room. I shook hands first with Shaara, then with Luke. "Who wants to play again?" he asked. All hands went up. For the second game, I was a Jedi and Luke was a Trooper again. This time, I lost to a really smart three-pronged attack that Luke organized against us. By now, we were all riled up and didn't want to stop playing together, but some of the kids who played it regularly weren't as captivated by it as me and began advocating for a new game. I suggested a game I had played on Tatooine with some of my slave friends. It didn't have a name, and when we referred to it, we simply called it 'the Jedi game'. Like Troopers and Jedi, its premise was simple – each kid would pick one of the famous Jedi to personify. Then we would stand in a ring and take turns trying to hit each other and trying to dodge each other's attacks in turn. Once someone got hit or kicked on the arm or the leg, they were out and stepped out of the circle to watch. Any move was acceptable so long as it was in one smooth motion. Fandi, the dark-skinned boy from Socorro, had played a similar game and helped me to demonstrate. Before long, we all had chosen a Jedi to imitate: Flin was Qui-Gon Jinn. Fandi was Mace Windu. The Cerean, whose name was Fela-Sa-Coda, chose Ki-Adi-Mundi. Luke quietly declared that he was Obi-Wan Kenobi. And I was, as I always had been, Anakin Skywalker.

The first game went by like lightening. Before anyone could even process it, Fandi and I were the only two left. He was good, but I had the advantage, having played against kids that had been honed as I had been by the harshness of the desert. He didn't stand a chance. The more competitive of the kids clamored to play again – the rest sat down to watch. The same thing happened, only this time Luke put up more of a fight. But when I made a feint to his right, he was left open on his left side to Fandi's attack. Taking Luke out in turn left Fandi undefended, and I dispatched him quickly. The third game, Luke's eyes were narrowed intently. To everyone's surprise, especially mine, Luke got Fandi out within the first thirty seconds with a lightning fast lunge at his left hand. The two of us proceeded to take out the rest of the competition, then turned to face each other. Our jabs, lunges and swipes started out slow and measured, then rapidly descended into exchanges that were as fast and furious as the Tatooine stormwind.

Inexplicably, Luke began to laugh. I backed up a step, unsure of what he was doing. He just grinned and yelled, "Beware, Skywalker! The Negotiator will conquer!"

I grinned savagely in return and cried, "In your dreams, Kenobi! The Hero With No Fear never loses!" and lunged with all the speed I had at his hand.

"**Lady Vader!**" That voice was the only thing that could have stopped me. Guiltily, I dropped my hands to my side and bowed my head. Beside me, Luke was pale; trembling, he bowed very low. I knew without looking that the other children were doing the same. Without lifting my head, I chanced a peek up: my father's mask was faceless, as always, and gave no indication of the anger that was coursing through him. Behind him walked a Senator, his face expressing an equal mixture of anger, sadness and…_fear_? I began to lift my head in interest, but I soon remembered the situation I was in and quickly looked down at my feet. "Lady Vader, we will be discussing this later," my father rumbled in the deadly, soft tone he only used when he was one step away from an explosion. As we began to walk away, he in front and I behind, he turned to face the unknown Senator, who had gone immediately to his son. The Senator put Luke behind him in an unconscious gesture of protectiveness, and my father said coldly, "Control your son, Organa." Organa. _Oh, I am so in for it_, I thought miserably. He turned on his heel and started walking away. I looked back only once – Luke gave a small wave before his father put a hand on his shoulder and turned him away.

After that, I tried to make myself as small as possible but still keep up with my father. I was surprised when we didn't head back to the Imperial box – instead, my father made a beeline for the hangar. Soon we were in the Imperial cruiser that my father _had _to pilot by himself. The ride back to the palace reminded me of the period of time back on Tatooine right before a sandstorm would hit – utterly silent, yet with a power beyond comprehension behind it all about to break forth. We strode through the corridors of the palace, with me taking three steps for every one of his. When we were through the door to our suite and the door was shut and locked, my father took off his mask and his left-hand glove, letting his cloak fall to the ground behind him. Even if I hadn't had the Force to tell me what was going on inside of him, I would have known by that gesture alone how angry he was: he always lectured me whenever I did something like that, reminding me that I was better than the leeches I had been enslaved to – I was above them. Trying not to give him any more reasons to yell at me, I hung my cloak up neatly on its peg. Wordlessly, he pointed to the couch. I went over and sat down quietly. I unlaced my mask with trembling fingers, keeping my eyes trained on a tiny hole on the sleeve of my dress. Without looking up, I heard him begin to pace. I hunched my shoulders in misery. I was really in for it.

* * *

Across the vast city, one father scolded his child, telling him that he dishonored the Jedi by playing Troopers and Jedi. The Jedi, he said, were noble and kind guardians of the galaxy. They kept the peace for thousands of years until the Sith, their cruel enemies, killed them all. At the end of his rant, he looked over at his cowed child, saddened – he had never had to yell at him before.

He took a deep breath in and said, "You are not to have anything to do with that girl, Luke. She is the Emperor's daughter – the Imperial Princess. They are Sith. If you put any value by what our family stands for, you will stay away from her. Do you understand me, Luke?"

The child's eyes went wide at his father's mention of his playmate's parentage. "I'm sorry, Daddy," he said, his eyes filling with tears. "I didn't know."

"Oh, Luke, I'm sorry too," the father said, gathering his child into his arms. "The universe seems intent on dividing and destroying all friends and all love. But there is one thing that will always be constant: I will always be there for you."

"I love you, Daddy," the child murmured as he snuggled into the crook of his father's arms. The father bent his head and kissed his child.

"I love you too, Lukie."

In a different district of the vast city-planet, another father scolded his child, telling her that she disgraced the Sith by playing the Jedi game. The Jedi, he said, were manipulative and uncaring. They had abandoned him, leaving her mother to die and leaving her to the mercy of slavers. The only end they served was their own gain.

At the end of his rant, he looked over at his cowed child. He took a deep breath in, shame filling him at the sight of her hunched frame, as tense as if she were expecting him to strike her. He cleared his throat awkwardly, all his anger flown away, and said gruffly, "You are not to have anything to do with that boy, Leia. He is the son of one of the Rebel leaders – a Rebel himself. If you put any value by what we stand for, you will stay away from him. Do you understand me, Leia?"

The child's eyes went wide at her father's mention of her playmate's parentage. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "I didn't know."

"Oh, Leia, I'm sorry for yelling," the father said, gathering his child into his arms. "You didn't know because I didn't tell you. From now on, I'm going to set aside time every night just to talk with you and be with you. We can call it the Truth time: no matter what question you ask me, I will answer honestly. How about that?" The child's eyes brightened at this opportunity offered to her; she nodded happily in agreement. "There is one thing that will always be constant in this treacherous galaxy we live in," he continued. "I will always be there for you."

"I love you, Daddy," the child murmured as she snuggled into the crook of her father's arms. The father bent his head and kissed his child.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

* * *

VVV

* * *

Hi everybody! I've really come to a crossroads in regards to my fanfiction writing, and I want to hear your input. I am faced with a choice - to continue the Shadow series and drop this story, or to continue this story and put the Shadow series off even longer, _or_ to keep trying to balance the two. There is a poll on my profile: let my know what you, the reader, are thinking.

For those who wanted to know what happened between the ending of Part 1 and the beginning of Part 2, here's a little summary: In the two-weekish span between Vader discovering Leia and the two defeating the Emperor, Vader taught Leia how to make herself invisible - both in sight and in the Force. He returned to the Imperial Palace and confronted Palpatine alone in the throne room. While he and Palpatine dueled, Leia snuck in, invisible. In one sudden burst, she revealed herself to the Force. All her power, released at once, shook all Force connections, including Palpatine's. She drank in the power pulled from Palpatine's shattered connection, and, needless to say, he wasn't ready for it. Vader, who had been braced for the chaos that would ensue in the Force, stabbed him then and there. The next day, Vader called a press conference, and you know the story from there. Interesting trivia: Luke had TERRIBLE nightmares that night from all the Dark energy that had roared through his twin.

Let me know what you're thinking :)


	8. Part 2: Chapter 3

The Slave's Gain, Part 2: Throne of Hearts

"_Oh happy kings, whose thrones are raised on their subjects' hearts." _

_~John Ford_

_"__You change your life by changing your heart.__"_

_~?_

Chapter 3

"He's a snobbish royal brat with no concept of anything happening that does not directly involve him! He's stubborn as a bantha, and he refuses to admit when he's wrong! He…Dad, are you even listening?"

The teen's father didn't even look up from his engineering magazine. "Of course, Leia. Whatever you want."

The teen rolled her eyes in exasperation. Striding over to her father, she snatched the magazine out of his hands. He looked up, irritated, until he saw the look in her eyes. He decided that silence would be the best policy in this situation and decided to ride his daughter's rant out.

"Dad, we _have_ to arrest them! Four terrorist attacks in the last three months. _Four_! And all to influential shipping yards! Are we honestly going to let them continue? Keep giving them free reign to destroy the Empire we have worked so hard for?" Gesticulating forcefully, she finally noticed the magazine. Diverted for the moment, she flipped through it. "When did we get this?" she asked.

"Yesterday," her father answered. "You spent all day writing that new bill against smuggling, and you came home in such high dudgeon that I decided to leave you alone for the day."

"This is a really good issue," she murmured. Then she seemed to remember why she was talking to her father in the first place. She smacked the magazine against her hand. "Dad, we _need_ to arrest them! Every day, they gather new worlds to their cause. If we don't stop them now, a full-scale war will erupt!"

Her father held her gaze steadily then took a deep breath in. "Leia, we've had this conversation before. As much as it annoys us, we have to follow protocol. And the protocol is that someone is innocent until proven guilty. Others in centuries past overlooked this and as a result, were overthrown." When she remained resolutely silent, her aura bright with hate, he said, "Leia, this is a conflict that is not going to be solved by the blaster and the saber. This conflict can be finished before it is even started: we just need to keep the people's hearts. We have to keep ourselves planted in their minds as the 'good guys'. If we lose their hearts, then it _will_ grow into a war." She was still silent, but now thoughtful as well. "You are key here, Leia," he continued. "You are young and vibrant and charismatic. You will one day rule this galaxy, Leia, but you _must_ have the hearts of the people. Keep them aligned with us, and this war will already be won." He pushed himself off the couch and went over to her, enveloping her in his arms. Then he held her at arm's length and looked her in the eye. "Leia, we _will_ arrest him. All you have to do is catch him in the act."

The teen sighed. "You're right, Dad."

"As always," he said, winking.

She laughed out loud and punched him lightly on the shoulder. "You wish!"

* * *

"She's a mercurial royal brat with no concept of ideals or morals or anything else of that kind! She's as stubborn as a bantha, and she refuses to admit when she's wrong! She…Dad, are you even listening?"

"Mhm," the teen's father said, not even looking up from his novel.

The teen rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Dad, look at me," he said sharply.

His father looked up, a warning in his eyes, until he saw the look in his son's eyes. He decided that silence would be the best policy in this situation and decided to ride his son's rant out.

"Dad, there have been three arrests this past month. _Three_! All without proper warrants – just the 'will of the Emperor' as justification. Dad, this is _injustice_! This has to be stopped!" So caught up was he in his anger that he began to pace. After a few tense moments, he whirled to face his father, a fire in his eyes. "Dad, every day, a new world joins our cause. This is our time to act! We can win this!"

His father sighed and closed his eyes. "Luke, we've had this conversation before. This is not a war that is going to be won with blasters and brute force. The only way this war is going to be won is through politics – through calm and mediated discussion, but even before that, by winning the hearts of the people." He frowned when he saw his son roll his eyes. "Luke, listen to me." The teen faced him grudgingly. "This is where you are going to come in. You are young and vibrant and charismatic. If you can get people to view them as the 'bad guys' and put _us_ in the 'good guys' position, we will already have won the war. You are key, Luke," he said earnestly. "So you cannot squander all the sacrifices that have been made by spreading treasonous and incendiary talk like this."

His son's shoulders sagged. "You're right, Dad," he said. "It was selfish and unthinking of me."

His father stood up and wrapped his arm around his son's shoulders. Then he held him at arm's length. They were the exact same height. "Luke, we _will_ depose them, but only when the time is right."

His son met his eyes and grinned. "That we will, Dad. That we will."

* * *

VVV

* * *

Hey everybody! I have come to a decision: I'm going to finish writing Part 3 of this story, then publish it while I write Princess of Darkness. That brings up another point I should make: as I was making a timeline for that story, I realized that POD is going to be more a space filler than anything else. At the moment, I think there will be anywhere from five to ten chapters depending on where it decides to go. Once it is ready for publication, I'll return to this story. There you go - my social life for the next four months ;) Thank you all so much for sending me your thoughts!


	9. Part 3: Chapter 1

The Slave's Gain, Part 3: My Equal

"_Our brothers and sisters are there with us from the dawn of our personal stories to the inevitable dusk." _

_~Susan Scarf Merrell_

"_He [my brother] is my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and scariest of all, my equal." _

_~Gregg Levoy_

"_The discovery of truth is prevented more effectively, not by the false appearance things present and which mislead into error, and not directly by weakness of the reasoning powers, but by preconceived opinion, by prejudice."_

_~Arthur Schopenhauer _

Chapter 1

The tiny ship shot into the darkness of space. A feral grin spread across my face seeing the puny cruiser trying so desperately to evade its pursuers. This was it. This was the day when the rock that the Rebel Alliance had been hiding under would be lifted up and used to crush them. I was so close.

Frantically, they fired back at us, but the courier ship was equipped with guns barely strong enough to knock over a paper cup, much less make a dent in the _Alecto_, the Star Destroyer of Lady Vader, Heir to the Empire and the Emperor's strong right hand. I smirked. After three years of patient waiting, Organa had finally made a mistake. And now here we were, pursuing that traitorous boy through the wilds of the Outer Rim.

"Approaching the Tatoo system, my lady," a technician called out.

I felt the rage building up within me. Of all places to run, he ran _here_? This had to be on the advice of Obi-Wan. I could only imagine that decrepit Jedi saying, "If you're ever pursued by Lady Vader or the Emperor, fly to this place. The memories they have of it will be so strong that they will turn around and leave you in peace." _Pieces_, more like. I snarled. Not even this place was strong enough to dissuade me from my goal. Not now. Not when I was this close. Instead, I gathered my anger and translated it into Dark Side energy. "Engage the tractor beam," I said.

I watched the tiny ship fight mightily against the pull before finally submitting and powering down. I felt the faintest whispers in my mind – Organa's thoughts, echoing through the Force. No matter how many times I searched him, it always struck me how closed his mind was. It was like hitting a brick wall and hearing only snatches of the conversation happening on the other side. With everyone else, the problem was picking out the stuff I needed without drowning under the writhing mass of thoughts around me. With him, I was lucky for scraps of thoughts, mere fragments of a much bigger whole. It was infuriating. I watched as the tiny courier was dragged slowly closer…and closer…and closer. "Prepare to board!" I yelled and strode from the bridge. I had a Prince to catch.

I stood amid the broken and twisted bodies of the fool Rebels who tried to resist me. I rolled a wounded one onto his back – an officer by his markings – as an Imperial officer I didn't know rushed up to me.

"The _Executor_ plans are not in the main computer, my lady," he said, trying desperately to hide his fear.

I ignored him, instead fighting to make eye contact with the Rebel in my hands. He wriggled in vain like the worm he was, but he had been warned – by Organa, no doubt – to not make eye contact, no matter what the cost.

"Where are those transmissions you intercepted?" I said clearly. Without looking, I knew that everyone around me was holding their hands to their ears. But I also knew that that wouldn't help. The true volume wasn't audible – it was the pressure of my mind on those around me. Sweat was rolling down the rebel's face, but he kept his eyes tightly shut. My mouth tightened. I grabbed his collar, lifted him up by it and slammed him against the corridor wall. "What have you done with those plans?" I yelled, letting my anger stream forth to assault his mind.

"We intercepted no transmissions. Aaah..." he moaned in pain. "This is…this is a consular ship. We're…we're on a diplomatic mission."

"If this is a consular ship... where is the Ambassador?" I asked quietly.

He refused to speak, but little by little, his eyes opened. Then they met mine. He screamed in pain and began to convulse. Only when he gave one final twitch and became still did I toss him aside and turn to my troops.

"Tear this ship apart until you've found those plans. And bring me the Ambassador. I want him alive!"

Much to the credit of my troops, they brought Organa to me within fifteen minutes. I heard in my mind before I heard with my ears the tramp of troopers' boots and the soft pad of the finest leather money could buy. His Highness, Prince Luke Organa, Senator of Alderran to the Imperial Senate was led to me with all haste. His hands were bound behind him, and a defiant light was in his blue eyes. The troopers stopped him before me and shoved him mercilessly to the ground; I stared down hard at the kneeling prince, his eyes glittering with some unknown emotion. We held each other's gazes for a long time. Without breaking eye contact, he made the first move:

"Lady Vader, I should have known. Only you could be so bold," he said, his disgust a part of the façade he was erecting. "The Imperial Senate will not sit for this, when they hear you've attacked a diplomatic..."

"Don't play games with me, Your Highness," I snapped, feeling my anger surging back. "You weren't on any mercy mission this time. You passed directly through a restricted system. Several transmissions were beamed to this ship by Rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said calmly. "I'm a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan..."

"You're a part of the Rebel Alliance and a traitor. Take him away!" I barked.

He was hauled roughly to his feet and marched away down the hallway. He looked back only once, to shoot me a look of hatred that I returned whole-heartedly.

Being the only Navy officer that I held a shred of respect for had its perks: Commander Menkis was able to say things for which others would otherwise have been instantly killed. "Holding him is dangerous," he said quietly. That was another thing I liked about the man – he wasn't one of the brazen and cocky young officers that spoke the first thing on their minds. "If word of this gets out, it could generate sympathy for the Rebellion in the senate."

I gritted my teeth. "I have traced the Rebel spies to him. Now he is my only link to their base!"

"He'll die before he tells you anything," he said warningly.

"Leave that to me," I snapped. "Send out a distress signal and then inform the Senate that all aboard were killed!"

Another officer strode up to us. He stopped and snapped to attention. I nodded in recognition, and he stood at ease. "Lady Vader, the warship plans are not aboard this ship! And no transmissions were made. An escape pod was jettisoned during the fighting, but no life forms were aboard."

"He must have hidden the plans in the escape pod," I murmured, half to myself. To Menkis, I said, "Send a detachment down to retrieve them. See to it personally, Commander. There will be no one to stop us this time."

"Yes, ma'am," he said and strode away with the junior officer.

I stayed where I was for a long time, my thoughts traveling down the corridor that my greatest enemy had walked down. Now came the interesting part.

* * *

VVV

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Hey! I have two more chapters to write in this Part, but I was hit by a rush of inspiration tonight and I had to go with it. Let me know what you think!

P.S. Now you know who exactly Lady Vader is in the Empire ;)


	10. Part 3: Chapter 2

The Slave's Gain, Part 3: My Equal

"_Our brothers and sisters are there with us from the dawn of our personal stories to the inevitable dusk." _

_~Susan Scarf Merrell_

"_He [my brother] is my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and scariest of all, my equal." _

_~Gregg Levoy_

"_The discovery of truth is prevented more effectively, not by the false appearance things present and which mislead into error, and not directly by weakness of the reasoning powers, but by preconceived opinion, by prejudice."_

_~Arthur Schopenhauer _

Chapter 2

Back at the Navy's main rendezvous, we were met by the _Executor_, the most powerful ship in existence and the flagship of the Emperor himself. Its construction had been a top-grade military secret, and most rank-and-file members of the military had had no knowledge of it. I felt my crewmen's awe at the sight of the Super Star Destroyer. Easily three times the size of the _Alecto_, it was a very impressive sight. My father had contacted my through the Force several hours before to let me know that he would be there to meet me, but even I was a little overwhelmed by the sheer _size_ of the thing. Commands and communications echoed through the _Alecto_'s bridge as we docked alongside it. I waited until all preparations were done before entering my shuttle. I felt the whisper of Organa's thoughts as he was loaded onto another shuttle, to be placed in the _Executor_'s cells.

_Dad?_ I said. Our Force bond was strong and thick from the short distance, and he felt me instantly.

_Leia!_ He exclaimed. _We're going to have to hold off on talking face-to-face until at least this evening._ Disappointment surged through me: I hadn't seen my father in person for over six months. That was the downside to being the Emperor's most important and trusted agent – I never got to see my dad. I felt equal disappointment echo back from him. _ I have two holoconferences, and the Moffs expect me at their meeting in an hour,_ he explained. He paused, considering something. _Maybe we would be able to meet earlier if…_

_If…what?_ I prompted him.

_If _you_ meet with the Moffs instead of me._

_Aw Dad!_ I complained, my disgust for the Moffs fighting with my respect for my father for so skillfully working me into this corner._ How can you even suggest that? Don't you love me at all? _I added jokingly..

_Of course I love you, Leia darling, but this needs to get done. Besides, Tarkin's here. He's been getting presumptuous lately, and what he needs is your firm hand to guide him back to his true position._ I smirked. Of all the Moffs, Tarkin was my least favorite. He was arrogance personified, and over the past ten years, he had seen fit to try and weasel his way into positions of power that he didn't deserve. Cowing him was an excellent outlet.

I gave the mental equivalent of a sigh and said _You win, Dad. I'm on my way now._ I felt his smirk before he cut the connection. I watched the shuttle door open, then squared my shoulders and strode briskly out.

* * *

I waited on one side of the conference room door, listening to the Moffs' conversation. Through the Force, the whine of Tagge's voice grated against my mind:

"_Until this battleship is fully operational we are vulnerable. The Rebel Alliance is too well equipped. They're more dangerous than you realize."_

Admiral Motti's scorn rang out like a minor chord. _"Dangerous to your puny starfleet, Commander, not to this battleship!"_

Tagge countered, saying, _"__The Rebellion will continue to gain a support in the Imperial Senate as long as..."_ I chose that moment to enter, Tarkin following obediently at my heels. All the bootlickers scrambled madly to be the first to rise. I took my seat at the head of the table. I made sure to take my time, making sure to make eye contact with all the Moffs before saying sharply, "The Senate is no concern of yours. _Your_ concern should be finding and obliterating the Rebellion."

Tagge managed to stutter out, "But what if they obtained a complete technical readout of the _Executor_? _If _they have," he hurried to add, withering under my scrutiny, "it is possible, however unlikely, that they might find a weakness and exploit it."

"The plans you refer to will soon be back in our hands," I said icily.

Again, Motti's scorn rang out into the Force. "Any attack made by the Rebels against this ship would be a useless gesture, no matter what technical data they've obtained," he said mockingly. "This ship is now the ultimate power in the universe. I suggest we use it!"

"Don't be too proud of this technological terror you've constructed," I countered, sneering. "The ability to raze a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force." There again was Motti's scorn, this time with tinged with a mocking kind of pity. "Don't try to frighten us with your witch's ways, Lady Vader. Your sad devotion to that ancient religion has not helped you conjure up the stolen data tapes, or given you clairvoyance enough to find the Rebel's hidden fort..."

His eyes bulged, and he began to tug at his collar. "I find your lack of faith…disturbing," I said softly.

His eyes were wide with fright. His lips were starting to turn blue when Tarkin spoke out desperately: "Enough of this! Lady, release him!" I gave him one look, and he took an involuntary step backwards.

I released Motti, and he collapsed on the table, gasping. Indifferently, I said, "This bickering is pointless. I will provide us with the location of the Rebel fortress by the time this ship is operational. We will then crush the Rebellion with one swift stroke." I rose to my feet. They all rose to their feet quickly. "This meeting is over," I said and swept out of the room, allowing the tiniest smirk of satisfaction to creep across my face.

* * *

VVV

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Hey everybody! I am _done_ writing Part 3! I am starting work on Princess of Darkness, but don't expect anything too soon: I am writing for NaNoWriMo, so work on that is going to happen wherever I can fit it in. Also for that reason, updates are going to be a little sparse.

One person criticized my over-use of ANH dialogue, and that's totally fine. I appreciate honest criticism. However, my answer to that is that with what I'm trying to do, I have to use that dialogue. Yes, I may have used too much, and yes, Leia will get her own dialogue eventually, but for this Part, you're just going to have to live with it. Besides, the important parts - the parts where you can really see the AU aspect - those are all in my words. There, a teaser for you ;)

Please review!


	11. Part 3: Chapter 3

The Slave's Gain, Part 3: My Equal

"_Our brothers and sisters are there with us from the dawn of our personal stories to the inevitable dusk." _

_~Susan Scarf Merrell_

"_He [my brother] is my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and scariest of all, my equal." _

_~Gregg Levoy_

"_The discovery of truth is prevented more effectively, not by the false appearance things present and which mislead into error, and not directly by weakness of the reasoning powers, but by preconceived opinion, by prejudice."_

_~Arthur Schopenhauer _

Chapter 3

I sat in my cell, provided free of charge by the Galactic Empire. It was three paces long and four paces wide, with a bench along the right wall that I supposed was meant to function as a bed.

Try as I might to turn my mind to other things, it kept returning to Lady Vader. I felt my blood boil at the thought of that…woman. She was as harsh as the Tatooinian stormwinds and as cold and pitiless as a winter's evening on Hoth. Ever since I could read the holopapers, I had understood how great the danger the galaxy was in was should she ever ascend the throne. I intended to make sure that never happened. And now, here I was, stuck in a holding cell, and on the _Executor_ no less.

I shuddered, remembering my first sighting of it as I was being transported from the _Alecto_. It was truly frightening – easily three times the size of a Star Destroyer and with the firepower to match, the first and greatest Super Star Destroyer was a force to be reckoned with. I could only hope that Obi-Wan got the plans I had sent him in R2-D2. If he got them, he would not rest until they were safe in the hands of the Alliance. I could only hope.

Something occurred to me – all this while (four meals plus a nap gave me the estimation of thirty-six hours or so), I had spared not one thought for myself. I was going to be tortured – that much was certain. But my fears were not as much for myself and my wellbeing than they were for the fate of the Alliance should I cave. I shuddered again – cave I very well might. Any of the Empire's famed interrogators would have me on my knees in a matter of hours. But if I was honest with myself, my greatest fear at this point in time was Lady Vader herself. I had heard the rumors – everyone had. That she could see your innermost thoughts in your eyes. That she could break the minds of the strongest beings, leaving them locked in padded rooms for the rest of their lives. That she could kill without touch or even sight – snapping the victim's neck, closing their airways, stopping their heart, or any of a thousand and one other ways. If I was honest, I was more afraid of her than her father, whatever the galaxy might see. Emperor Vader had done some noble things – liberating Callym, abolishing the slave trade, granting a little more freedom to the Senate. But Lady Vader…I had heard (and witnessed) nothing but bad about her.

I closed my eyes in an attempt to center myself. Almost immediately, I straightened, feeling the delicate strains of lights and shapes and colors that I had been feeling, almost hearing, for ten years now – what I interpreted to be the thoughts of Lady Vader. She was coming. One thing that I had always found intriguing but terrifying about Lady Vader was how…_closed_ she was. Everyone else was an book practically _begging_ to be opened and read. She was separate from the currents and eddies of those around us. It was almost like hitting a thick, warped glass window – not being able to see anything but vague shadows and the occasional flash of a color or shape. I couldn't see what was coming next with her, which was what one of the many things about her that put me on edge.

The door creaked open.

I straightened, trying my best to keep my countenance even. But despite my best efforts, when _she_ walked through the door, a humming interrogation droid behind her, I faltered.

Her brown eyes glittered, and her mouth curved up in a small but deadly smile. "And, now Your Highness," she said softly, "we will discuss the location of your hidden Rebel base." She closed the door behind her, and gestured the droid forward.

The whole scope of my vision narrowed to the gleaming hypodermic needle advancing upon me. It pierced my right shoulder, and the world tilted, throwing colors and faces askew…

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VVV

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Let's be honest here: I am in a foul mood right now, and reviews, _any_ reviews, would give me some relief. So...could you spare a mo?

Publication notes: I have set a date to begin publishing Princess of Darkness, more to challenge myself to actually _finish_ it than anything else. I will begin publishing it _no later than_ December 8, and feel free to come and harp on me if I don't get it up by then. Also, I have put a new story in my 'Coming Soon' section of my profile, titled _Arranged_. I swear, I will not publish it until I am done writing POD! :D All I want to know is if people are interested in reading it, or something like it.


	12. Part 3: Chapter 4

The Slave, Part 3: My Equal

"_Our brothers and sisters are there with us from the dawn of our personal stories to the inevitable dusk." _

_~Susan Scarf Merrell_

"_He [my brother] is my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and scariest of all, my equal." _

_~Gregg Levoy_

"_The discovery of truth is prevented more effectively, not by the false appearance things present and which mislead into error, and not directly by weakness of the reasoning powers, but by preconceived opinion, by prejudice."_

_~Arthur Schopenhauer _

Chapter 4

I waited outside the cell door for Leia to emerge. About an hour ago, I had tried to connect with her in the Force and, to my shock, she had _shoved_ me back. In that briefest of connections, I had felt her clearly – her blood was up, and she was in a fighting rage.

_Organa must be giving her trouble,_ I thought. I had seen her like that only a few times, and every time, no matter how hard her task was, she had refused every kind of aid, from pride or sheer stubbornness I don't know. _Yes, dear, she is _your_ daughter_, I could hear Padme saying.

A quiet chuckle escaped my lips despite my anxiety. Leia was definitely more like me than Padme. She had never had that quiet, warm flame burning inside of her that I had always considered part of who Padme was – Leia had always had the furious wildfire of emotions I associated with myself. Oddly enough, that had always been something I noticed about the young Organa: he had that quiet self-assurance that could never be shaken. I had seen flashes of anger and sorrow from him, but they had always been…_channeled_, both well-contained and directed. Leia could never conceal her emotions – she wore her heart on her sleeve, just as I used to. But Organa…Organa was a different story. He had the calculating mind and the poise and grace of my angel. He even looked a little like her.

I checked my chrono anxiously. Leia had been in there for far too long. I cast around through the Force, searching for her. Fear gripped my heart. I couldn't sense her: her presence was completely gone. Then, the door creaked open, and she walked slowly out, her eyes trained on the floor. She carefully shut the door and turned toward me. But when she raised her eyes up to me, they rolled up in their sockets, and she began to collapse. I caught her as she fell and quickly searched her through the Force. She was a softly flickering ember where, usually, she was a barely controlled inferno. But she was alive – she was just drained. _Organa really must have put up a fight_.

* * *

Three hours later, we were both in my quarters, Leia lying prone on my bed and I sitting in the chair beside her. She groaned, her eyes flickering open. They quested around, finally alighting on my face.

"Where am I?" she murmured.

"My quarters on the _Executor_," I answered. When she tried to sit up, I pushed her gently back and said "Stay still, you're still recovering."

She rolled her eyes, grumbling, "You're such a mother hen," but complied. Once she was lying back down, she gave me a confused look. "From what am I supposed to be recovering?" Then her eyes widened with remembrance, before narrowing with fury.

I waited a few moments in order to not seem eager before saying, "Did you get it? The information?"

Her mouth tightened. She shook her head once, keeping her eyes trained on the ceiling.

I was stunned. "Leia, you have been able to open the minds of some of the most powerful Jedi. What's so special about this young man?"

She was silently pensive, refusing to meet my eyes. After an eternity, she said quietly, almost as if she was just discovering it, "He is my equal."

Now I was confused. "What's that supposed to mean?" I said, I regret to say, rather sharply.

Her eyes blazed, and she snapped back, "It _means_ I cannot break him. For some reason or another, he has the strongest mind I know, except for yours." She paused to think then went on: "I have done _everything_ within my imagination to try and coerce him into disclosing the information. He has blocked me at every turn. I don't think he even knows he's doing it – it's almost as if the Force itself were guiding him."

"So you think he's Force-sensitive."

"Not necessarily. I have known non-Force-sensitives who had strong mind shields. But it would explain a lot." She trailed off into frustrated silence.

I looked down at my gloved hands before lowering my head into them tiredly. "So we're left with the one option I never wanted to use." She nodded, a bleak look in her eyes. I pulled out my comlink slowly and dialed the head navigator's frequency. "Hanner? This is the Emperor speaking. Set course for Alderran."

* * *

VVV

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Hey everybody! I apologize to all those hoping for a Leia-Luke reconciliation. Alas, it was not meant to be ;) And about the interrogation scene... I explained to one person that I didn't write it in because a) what I saw when _I_ first thought about it absolutely freaked me out, and b) I wanted to leave it up to your imagination. What do _you_ think Leia did to him in there?

POD update: I am not in nearly as far as I was hoping I would be, but the first parts _are_ ready for publication. December 8 - it's going to happen ;)


	13. Part 3: Chapter 5

The Slave, Part 3: My Equal

"_Our brothers and sisters are there with us from the dawn of our personal stories to the inevitable dusk." _

_~Susan Scarf Merrell_

"_He [my brother] is my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and scariest of all, my equal." _

_~Gregg Levoy_

"_The discovery of truth is prevented more effectively, not by the false appearance things present and which mislead into error, and not directly by weakness of the reasoning powers, but by preconceived opinion, by prejudice."_

_~Arthur Schopenhauer _

Chapter Five

_Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp._ The regularity of the stormtroopers' march helped me to focus, drawing me out of my drug-induced fog of self-absorption. I was still very weak, and the stormtroopers had to half-carry me. But when we got to the double doors at the end of the long corridor and I felt-saw the whispers of the mind that had reduced me to this state, I admit I felt a rush of uncontrollable terror. But at the same time, that fear lent a clarity to my mind that gave me the strength to stifle the fear and hold myself erect. The doors swung open from the inside, and I marched in in sync with the armed guards.

The first face my eyes alighted on was Lady Vader, standing on the lower tier of steps. We exchanged a look of deepest hatred before my eyes strayed. Standing above her at the top of the dais was…I felt the blood drain from my face.

"Ah, Prince Organa. I'm so glad you could join us," the Emperor said, his deep, mechanized voice echoing chillingly through the large hall.

I summoned up all the courage I had and replied sarcastically, "Your Highness. It is a pleasure, as always, to see you." I inclined my head slightly in a mockery of a bow.

Lady Vader's eyes were hard. "Mind your tongue, Organa," she snapped.

I said nothing, choosing instead to spit at her feet.

Her eyes blazed, and she started toward me, but before she could go more than a few steps, a deep voice rang out: "Stamatastay, il mio vendicatore! Yeye ni chini yenu!" She cocked her head, her eyes shut tight in concentration. She took one step forward, her expression that of defiance. Her father's growl sounded out again, this time threateningly, "Stamataystay." Amazingly, she halted, her fists clenched hard enough for her knuckles to turn white. She took a step back, keeping her eyes trained on the floor. The ocher of defiance and the fiery orange of hatred pulsed around her in a fearsome cloud.

Emperor Vader turned his masked face back to me as if nothing had happened and said, "An interesting situation has arisen, Senator. You have aided in the theft of Imperial information. If we do not receive Rebel information in turn, drastic measures might have to be taken."

I tried desperately to keep my voice defiant: "The more you tighten your grip, the more systems will slip through your fingers!"

If it was possible with his vocoder, the Emperor's voice became cold. "Not after we demonstrate the full power of the Imperial Navy, spearheaded by this new battleship, my _Executor_."

It took all of my strength, physical and mental, to keep my legs from buckling. He went on: "In a way you have determined the choice of the planet that will be subjugated first."

The one thing guaranteed to shatter me appeared on the room's giant viewscreen: my home, Alderran. I couldn't keep the desperation out of my voice as I moaned, "No…"

"Do drastic measures need to be taken?" that dread voice said quietly.

"Alderran is peaceful!" I protested. "We have no weapons. You can't…"

"You would prefer a military target?" Vader said in a silky tone. "Then, by all means, name the system."

I looked desperately around the room, searching for gods-know-what, something, _anything_ that could help me. Alderran or the Rebellion? The Rebellion or Alderran? I was going to die either way, I had no doubt and strangely, no fear. But that choice pressed down upon me, smothering me. My home, my beautiful home, or my cause? So many were going to die…

Desperate for time, I asked, "What will you do if I don't…"

"If you don't tell us what we want?" he interrupted. His tone shifted, becoming a deadly Mandalorian blade made into soundwaves: "If you don't tell me what I want, I will deploy a fleet directly to Alderran to place it under the control of the Imperial military. All traces of your pitiful excuse for autonomy will be swept away. Alderran as _you_ know it will be destroyed." His volume dropped to just above a whisper, yet every word pounded within my skull. "Now, I will ask you only once: where is the Rebel base?"

I cast my eyes to the floor and took a deep breath in. I had only one shot at this. "Dantooine," I said quietly. "They're on Dantooine."

There was silence. I waited, fighting to believe the untruth I had spoken, to give it the ring of truth.

Then the Emperor spoke, this time to Lady Vader. "I see what you mean, vendicatore: he _is_ strong." His voice rose. "Strong enough to project lies as if they were truth!"

I felt my stomach drop.

Emperor Vader pulled out his comlink ever so slowly, all the while keeping his hawk-like gaze trained upon me. He dialed a frequency and said into it, "Commence hyperspace jump to Alderran!"

The sight of the stars speeding up loosened my tongue, for I was able to cry out, "What?"

He looked down at me, his disgust scalding me. "We discovered the base on Dantooine more than two weeks ago. At that point, it had been uninhabited for more than a year. There is no way it could be the headquarters of the Rebellion." The beautiful blue-and-green planet of Alderran appeared, not on the viewscreen, but through the enormous window behind the dais. He shrugged. "I gave you a chance to be reasonable, Senator. Now, observe the consequences of your actions."

As I watched, hundreds of thousands of TIE Interceptors streamed from the _Executor_ and proceeded to rain destruction upon my home. Then thousands of troop carriers descended, and the half hour following, I knew that all the survivors of the first raid were being rounded up and marched into central areas. For what, I did not know until the Emperor's comlink buzzed. He listened to it, then stepped over to what looked like a microphone. "People of Alderran," he said, and I imagined my father being pushed out of the palace and made to kneel, hearing these dread words echoing through our world. "People of Alderran, Luke Organa was apprehended three days ago receiving transmissions of the most criminal kind – highly classified schematics beamed from none other than the Rebel Alliance," the Emperor said lightly, belying the red light of the brightest anger I had seen yet spiraling furiously out of him. "By Decree 31 of the Galactic Empire, if an individual commits a crime in accordance with the Rebel Alliance, that individual's homeworld can be held responsible, for that world did not guide the individual in the correct path. You now know the reason for the destruction wreaked upon you today, Alderranians. I will not exact the great punishment upon you, for I know the value of a loyal world. But know that your rulers, the Organas, are traitors to the Empire, and will be dealt with as such. I order my troops to stand down and leave you in peace. Consider this a warning, a warning about the cost of rebelling. Take care what ideas you put into your children's heads in the future." With that, he stepped away from the microphone.

I hadn't known that I had collapsed to my knees until the chill began seeping through my pants. I felt water streaming down my face and into my gaping mouth, the salty taste reviving me. I could not look away from the great window where my home, my beautiful, devastated home hung in the infinite blackness. Only when the Vaders swept past me and out the door did I give way to the gasping sobs and the keening wails, the only way I had to mourn – mourn for the beauty, the fearlessness, the _innocence_ I had just cost my home. My home…destroyed.

* * *

VVV

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Aaaannd, the semester is DONE! I am celebrating by publishing my second-favorite chapter of this story (my favorite is in Part 4), eating Greek food, and watching Downton Abbey. Life is good :D

Let me know what you think!


	14. Part 3: Chapter 6

The Slave, Part 3: My Equal

"_Our brothers and sisters are there with us from the dawn of our personal stories to the inevitable dusk." _

_~Susan Scarf Merrell_

"_He [my brother] is my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and scariest of all, my equal." _

_~Gregg Levoy_

"_The discovery of truth is prevented more effectively, not by the false appearance things present and which mislead into error, and not directly by weakness of the reasoning powers, but by preconceived opinion, by prejudice."_

_~Arthur Schopenhauer _

Chapter Six

I slipped through the all-but-abandoned streets of Alderra City, my footfalls making less noise than the wind. As easy as it would have been to allow the Force to just muffle my steps, I knew that doing so would mean not only my demise, but also the deaths of all three Organas.

I took a quick glance behind me – I saw with relief that my companions were keeping up with me, silently too. The Corellian, despite his boots, was ghosting across the cobblestones almost as silently as I was, and the Wookiee's footpads and long fur effectively muffled his steps. _It certainly pays to hire criminals to get one past the authorities_.

I blessed the Force for guiding me into that catina on Nar Shadaa. These two looked like they had done this far too many times before.

I half-smiled. Anakin would have liked them, the human especially: he had the same mentality about life that Anakin had had – go in with guns blazing and no plan. They would have been friends in another life.

My thoughts drifted against my will to the hologram Luke had concealed in R2-D2. He had looked so much like his father, but he had carried himself with a self-confidence that Anakin had never possessed. Listening to him was like hearing Padme Amidala speaking through the years. He had the innate charisma of both of his parents and his mother's unique talent of using it to his best advantage.

I froze, still in the shadows of the alleyway. A squadron of stormtroopers were marching down the main thoroughfare that we had to cross in order to get to the palace. The smugglers froze behind me. Only when the sound of the troop's boots had faded into the darkness did I gesture the two across the road. One more darkened alley and we were at the corner of the royal palace. I nodded to the man.

He pulled off his pack and drew out a long rope, complete with mechanized grappling hook. I cast my mind out, sensing for the sentries I knew Vader would have posted. There were two stationed on the corner right above us: I Force-nudged them to go and talk to the sentries at the far corner of the palace ramparts. When they were gone, I gestured to Han, and he loaded the grappling hook into a pressurized launcher and sent it flying up to dock just below the top of the ramparts. He tugged it, checking that it had held, then nodded to me. I shimmied up the rope and gave him a hand up when he neared the top. Han grabbed hold of the grappling hook, pressed the release button, and tossed it down to Chewbacca. The Wookiee waved as we slipped off down the stairs – he had his own job to do.

Solo and I slipped through the shadows of the courtyard. When we got to the door that would lead into the palace, he looked back at me. _Do your stuff, old man_, his expression clearly said. I slid into the Force, feeling for life signatures. No one was anywhere near our door. I nodded to Solo; he then drew a leather packet from his back pocket and proceeded to pick the lock. Within seconds, we were inside.

I took the lead, following the trail that the Force was setting for me. I could sense Luke at its end, his presence like that of a banked fire – powerful and fiery, but muted. Several times, we encountered pairs of stormtroopers: when we couldn't avoid them, I wiped their memories. Finally, we made it to the room we needed. It was a bedroom, stately but not in frequent use. Solo went to the window and shot another grappling hook to the room above us. He tugged it for safety, then nodded to me. We had agreed that I should be the one to go up so as not to frighten the Organas – they all knew and trusted me, whereas Han...Well, let's just say he didn't _look_ like an ally.

I climbed the rope hand-over-hand, and when I reached the top, two pairs of strong hands helped me in. Breha, Bail, and Luke were all dressed for concealment, having doffed their accustomed white for darkest blue and black.

I gestured to Bail to climb the rope first. He nodded, his mouth a tight line. As Bail climbed down the rope and Breha after him, I grabbed Luke's hand and sent him the mental plan I had for our escape. _Just in case I don't make it_, I added at the end. His eyes, those shattered blue eyes, widened, then hardened. He nodded his understanding and swung out the window to the rope. I followed quickly. When I was safely in the room below, Solo activated the remote release on the grappling hook and stowed it back in his bag.

I gestured to everyone to follow me. Slowly but surely, we made our way to the mechanics' wing. When we were two corridors away, I nodded to Solo. He pulled out a hand-held transmitter and flipped on one of the switches. Seconds later, I heard the charges that Chewbacca had set ignite. I felt pain and fear rippling through the Force, but I concentrated on the hurried tramp of stormtrooper boots hurrying from the hangar toward the scene of the explosions. After they had all gone, I swept the hangar with the Force, then gave the all-clear. We hurried through the last few corridors, entering the hangar swiftly. I ground to a halt at the sight of what awaited us.

Darth Vader stood in the center of the floor, his arms crossed across his chest. I felt Luke's fear spike, then, at the sight of another being, twist into the darkest hatred I had ever sensed. I turned slightly and saw the the red light of a lightsaber glint harshly on the mask of Lady Vader. I put a cautionary hand behind me, and Luke halted.

"I knew they would send you to retrieve these traitors, Kenobi," Vader said, as calmly as if we having the conversation over Alderranian tea and biscuits.

"They are not the traitors, Anakin," I said calmly. "You are."

"Me? A traitor? To what?" he exclaimed, more mocking than I had ever heard him.

"To the Jedi – to your _family_!" I exclaimed in desperation. He was silent, but I felt the crackling stormclouds of the Dark Side building up within him.

"A family does not attempt to control someone's heart," he said darkly. "A family does not leave someone dear to one of their own to die. And a family most certainly does not abandon innocents to a life of slavery!"

As if that was her cue, Lady Vader leaped into action. But I had taught her father; I knew the way his mind worked. I also knew every move in his arsenal, now passed on to her, having either taught it to him, or having been next to him in the fights that left him a little wiser. The leap that she herself was using was no exception, and as such, I knew how to counter it. I caught her blade on mine and quickly twisted. Her lightsaber popped from her hand, and as her momentum carried her past me, I hit her on the temple hard enough to bruise but not kill. Her eyes rolled up in their sockets, and she crumpled to the floor.

"A piece of advice, Anakin," I said. "Do not pit your daughter against the person who knew you best."

He arose silently from his crouch beside her, assured that she was not seriously injured and turned to me.

"A word of advice for you, _Jedi_," he responded scathingly. "Continue being the coward that you always were, and do not return to tempt fate. Or better yet, _die._" And with that, he leaped at me, and we began to duel.

I swiftly lost myself in the Force, but even that didn't seem to be enough. He had grown in power and, if at all possible, in passion, since we had last seen each other. "You have lost yourself, Anakin!" I yelled, in sudden pain. The cutting guilt I had shut away for years began once again to flow.

He laughed, an already chilling sound made harsh by his vocoder. "I have not lost myself, you stupid man. I have _found_ myself!"

"And just what are you, Vader?" I yelled angrily.

"A father," he said softly, but with an undeniable hint of steel.

I faltered.

And that was all the advantage he needed. Within three quick strikes, I was flat on my back, my lightsaber in his hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bail and Breha jumping into a ship as Solo began the ignition sequence. As I saw Vader raise the two blades, I found myself reciting the Jedi creed: "_There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is..." _

I heard an cry akin to that of a wild animal. Then both blades were flying from Vader's hand, and Luke was attacking him. He had next to no training, but he made up for it in passion and the sheer depth of his Force connection. I Force-shoved Vader hard against the far wall and pulled Luke with me toward the ship. I watched him stumble over to his daughter as we soared out of the hangar uncontested.

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VVV

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_75 reviews_ _and 8,800+ hits_? I don't deserve you guys :') A tidal wave of thanks from me to all the readers and reviewers!

Happy New Year ('s Eve)!


	15. Part 3: Chapter 7

The Slave, Part 3: My Equal

"_Our brothers and sisters are there with us from the dawn of our personal stories to the inevitable dusk." _

_~Susan Scarf Merrell_

"_He [my brother] is my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and scariest of all, my equal." _

_~Gregg Levoy_

"_The discovery of truth is prevented more effectively, not by the false appearance things present and which mislead into error, and not directly by weakness of the reasoning powers, but by preconceived opinion, by prejudice."_

_~Arthur Schopenhauer_

Chapter Seven

_Stars...spinning...light through a haze...spinning..._My eyes flickered open. I was lying in a strange bed, and my head felt like a herd of banthas had stampeded through it. I moved to sit up, but the world tilted and I fell back, gasping.

"Leia?" a familiar voice said. I turned my head a little to the side. My dad was waiting in the doorway, his mask off. The look of relief on his face was enough to make me forget my pain for a moment. He moved quickly towards my bed and grabbed my hand.

"Daddy...What...What happened?" I managed to stutter out, even the act of speaking making me see stars. I felt my father set his hand on my head and wash it with the Force. The pain subsided, and I was able to think again.

"Kenobi hit you on the head. _Hard_," he replied, his hand still on my forehead. "You've got a bad concussion."

"What happened after he knocked me out?"

"He and I fought. I had him unarmed and on the ground when Organa summoned the lightsabers from my hands and attacked me. The downside of the situation was that they got away."

I felt my mouth quirk up at the huge hint he had just dropped. "Is there an upside?"

He smirked. "I know for sure now that Organa is Force-sensitive. And we're tracking them."

I smiled back. "That _is_ an upside. Are we getting close to their base?"

"Yes – we're about to come out of hyperspace."

I felt savage joy spread through my body. "And then we'll destroy them once and for all."

Then something strange happened. My father averted his eyes and shifted his weight ever so slightly.

"Dad?" I asked. "What's the matter?"

He seemed to steel himself before turning back to meet my eyes. "Leia, you're not going out there tonight."

It took me a second for me to understand what he was saying. "You mean I'm not going to fight tonight? You can't be serious," I concluded, disbelievingly.

"I am deadly serious," Dad replied. "You have a severe concussion and are in no condition to fight."

"But...but..." I stuttered, hating myself for the hurt that was suddenly shattering me, "I'm your wingman!"

My dad looked down at his feet, then back at me. "I know," he said. "And that's why I can't let you go."

I felt like a lead weight had just hit me in the stomach: my father was _crying_. Immediately, I reached out for him, clutching his hand. He enveloped me in his arms as he had when I was a child. "I almost lost you yesterday, Leia," he whispered into my hair. "I almost lost you because I allowed myself to be blinded by my fury. You could have died, and I cannot forgive myself for making it a possibility." He paused and clutched me tighter. "Do not ever think that I would replace you, Leia. _No one_ can ever replace you. All I want is to keep you safe. You mean more to me, Leia, than all the worlds in the galaxy combined, and I _will not_ put you in danger willingly, especially when you're injured. Do you understand me?" I sent him my understanding through the Force. "Good," he said. "Now, I want you to go to one of the other Star Destroyers for the battle - the _Chimaera _or the _Minotaur_, but not the _Executor_ or the _Alecto_."

"WHAT?" I exclaimed. "What happened to staying with your ship?"

"Things are different now," he replied grimly. "The Rebels will be gunning for the _Alecto_ because it is known as _your_ ship and for the _Executor_ because it's the biggest threat."

I felt a chill run down my spine. "You think they actually have a chance," I stated.

He nodded, a grim light in his eyes. "There is a big enough flaw in the _Executor_ that, should the Rebels find it, there is nothing that can save her. And I have not doubt that they have found it or will find it soon."

I felt like a lead weight had slid into my belly, weighing me down to the ground. "Just be safe, Dad," I said softly, giving him another hug.

"I'll try, sweetheart. I'll try." With that, he was gone. And for the first time in my life, I understood what it was to be afraid.

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VVV

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Hi everyone! The last two (_two?! _Has it really been that long?) months have been hectic. The best way I can describe it is that life dragged me into a dark alley and mugged me. The only thing that allowed me to get this up was a snow day. :P

Reviews? Anyone? Anyone?


	16. Part 3: Chapter 8

The Slave, Part 3: My Equal

"_Our brothers and sisters are there with us from the dawn of our personal stories to the inevitable dusk."_

_~Susan Scarf Merrell_

"_He [my brother] is my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and scariest of all, my equal."_

_~Gregg Levoy_

"_The discovery of truth is prevented more effectively, not by the false appearance things present and which mislead into error, and not directly by weakness of the reasoning powers, but by preconceived opinion, by prejudice."_

_~Arthur Schopenhauer_

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Chapter Eight

I stood on the _Chimaera_'s bridge, watching the battle unfold before me. We were winning, if only by sheer weight of numbers, but I could not get my father's statement out of my head. _There is nothing that can save her_. I felt a chill run down my spine. My father, a self-proclaimed realist, was honest to the bone. He told the truth, or what he felt to be the truth, no matter what the consequences. So if he thought that the Empire was going to lose this battle… Well, then we were most likely going to lose.

I closed my eyes to the battle and opened myself to the Force. Immediately, I was awash with thoughts and sounds and screams. Hundreds were dying, and their pain resonated in the Force. Fear rippled through, its minor chord more powerful than that of the pain. Hundreds, no, _thousands_ more, were afraid – afraid of dying, afraid of being captured , afraid of _losing_. That fear especially radiated from what I knew to be the command center of the Rebel Alliance. I felt Kenobi in particular, drowning in the fear of losing...what? Kenobi was terrified of losing Luke Organa? Weren't the Jedi forbidden from having attachments? No, there was more – Organa was the Rebel Alliance's 'New Hope', apparently. A tight smile made its way onto my face. _Not for long, Kenobi. Not for long._

Curious now as to what Organa was doing, I searched for him in the Force. After years of searching for something, _anything_, from his mind, I knew how to locate him. By finding the absence of all mind-sound, I would inevitably find him. My search did not last long. When I found him, I pulled back, reeling with fear. Luke Organa was engaged in a ferocious aerial battle with none other than my father. And it was not going well for either man. My father had lost two of his three guns as well as his targeting system, and he was listing to one side despite all his best efforts to fight it. But Organa had lost his left stabilizer and all controls but his manual ones. He was putting up a terrific fight, forcing my father to delve into his bag of tricks. I could feel my father's fury building right alongside his joy at having such worthy opponent. I heard the faintest chime of fear echoing from Organa. His fear harmonized eerily with a deep-seated _franticness_. He was looking for something, something important. I felt the floor drop out from beneath me. I knew what he was looking for. _The flaw_. So he _did_ know what it was. And he was out to take advantage of it. But with my father cutting him off at every angle, he was having a hard time finding it. _Way to go, Dad_, I thought, smirking despite the fear that was gnawing away at me.

Suddenly, Organa decided to make a break for it. He was away and shooting toward the rear end of the _Executor_, my father trailing by half a second. I could hear my father's fear, a harshly foreign sound, as it began to build in volume. Renewed fighting. Aerial maneuvers that would have made lesser men pass out. More fighting. Then suddenly, I felt my father spinning out of control. The sounds of cockiness and hotshot arrogance seemed to quell all other noise in the Force. I heard as clearly as if the man himself was standing in front of me, _GO FOR IT, KID!_ The Force seemed to swell as Organa threw himself into it. Then he shot once. Only once.

I opened my eyes to see one tiny explosion set off a chain effect in the _Executor_. Before I quite comprehended what was happening, the ship began listing. One more blast and it exploded, sending a massive shock wave out across the battlefield. As I watched, the Rebels began fighting with renewed vigor and a ferocity I didn't know they possessed. The Imperial forces began unraveling quickly. My fear had eaten away so much of me that I felt next nothing. Then, over the _Chimaera's_ comm system, I heard the voice I most wanted to hear. Feeling rushed back into me.

"Retreat," my father said, his voice harsh with static and anger. "Full retreat. That's an order."

As he docked in one of the other Star Destroyers, I reached out to him. _Dad?_ I asked.

My father's voice was narrow, worn thin by exhaustion. _Yes, sweetheart?_

_What are we going to do now?_ I asked.

I could hear him shaking his head slowly. _I don't know, dear one. I don't know._ He paused, then said with a note of his normal self, _But I'm sure we'll figure something out_.

I grinned darkly. _Dad, of _that_ you can be sure. _

Staring out into the blue-white of hyperspace, I whispered to myself, "That's a promise, Organa. That's a promise."

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VVV

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Helloooo! Darth Real Life was at it again. Ah well, Jedi Master Spring Break has driven him back for the moment.

Reviewers, readers, followers, thank you _soooooo_ much!

Shoutout to Female Marauder, this story's recently acquired beta. Give this lady chocolate - she rocks! :D

Concerning POD and its dark and looming hiatus: At this moment in time, I have neither the time nor the energy to crank out another chapter. Which brings me to my other piece of bad news. After this chapter, this story will also be on temporary hiatus. The next two, really three months will be beyond crazy for me. What with grades, graduation, and the resultant hoopla, I will not have time to _think__, _much less write. So, after June, you may expect Part 4's awesomeness to pour forth.

If you observe Easter, may it be a blessed time for you. :)


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